


Dim Light and Low Music

by acrossatoss



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Coercion, Corporal Punishment, Dysfunctional Family, Espionage, Explicit Consent, F/M, Major Original Character(s), Marley (Shingeki no Kyojin), Marley Arc (Shingeki no Kyojin), Military, Minor Original Character(s), Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, POV Multiple, POV Original Female Character, POV Third Person Omniscient, Political Drama, Rebellion, Romance, Secret Organizations, Secret Relationship, Sex, Smoking, Specifically Zeke's past goals and motives, Spoilers, Spoilers for Season 4, double agent, more tags with more chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28851276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrossatoss/pseuds/acrossatoss
Summary: Amelia Suhr is the daughter of a Marlayan Commander. She's managed to paint herself as a golden child; a charming, smart, and versatile young woman. Zeke is a loyal Eldian Warrior, a man of amazing skill and seemingly deep trust in Marley. But when Amelia's father discovers Zeke's deepest secret she's forced into a dark, illicit plot to further Marley's power. Even though Amelia and Zeke both desperately cling to their suspicions and secrecy they can't help but fall into a dangerously passionate affair that threatens everything they've worked so hard for.
Relationships: Colt Grice & Zeke Yeager, Pieck Finger & Zeke Yeager, Porco Galliard & Zeke Yeager, Zeke Yeager/Original Character(s), Zeke Yeager/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 60





	1. Go Before Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> As with all of my fanfics, this is an original character-centric piece that sticks closely to the plot of the source material, though this piece largely takes place in a time period where we don't know what exactly Zeke was doing. Unlike my other fics, however, this one will have sexual content in the main story rather than as optional chapters. I'll include notes on the chapters that contain such content so you can ensure it's something you want to read. This chapter has no such content.

The streets of Liberio became more sparsely populated as Amelia walked. Not because it was late, but rather because she was wandering further from the shops and restaurants and into the military zone. She’d walked out of her house just after dinner, her mother had just retired to take a bath and, more than likely, to read in bed until she went to sleep. Her father usually retreated to his office alone to work but this night he’d taken a hold of Amelia's arm and dragged her into his office. He’d spoken to her for a long time in hushed tones and then handed her a key and written note, both of which sat in her coat pocket now. 

Amelia paused next to a vendor peddling hot drinks, their eyes locked and the man perked up, “Want a cup, miss? Closing up soon so I’ll be throwing it out anyway. I’ll give it to you for free.”

Amelia smiled, “How can I argue?” She shuffled over to look at his offers, “A cider?”

“Lovely choice,” he smiled, pouring her a dangerously full cup. “Have a good night, miss," the man said, tossing the rest of his drinks into the drain at the side of the street. He shut the cart and it rattled loudly down the street. 

Now left with a cup that threatened to toss searing liquid on her fingers at the slightest movement, Amelia awkwardly bent her body forward to sip off the top. She sighed and sat on a nearby bench, “A goodnight, huh,” she mused to herself.

She thought of her father earlier, explaining her role in his plan. She’d personally never had an issue with the young warchief and didn’t have much of an opinion on him. She only really know what was shared in Marleyan propaganda; he was a titan unlike any other, he'd chosen Marley over his parents; his unique talents were a large part of their success in the last war. Even though his performance and status had gained him some freedom, he didn’t have so much freedom that he could speak to a Commander’s daughter whenever he chose. Sometimes she would visit with the young warrior candidates playing games with them or watching as they trained. He’d always been there on the fringes of her sight, watching as she talked with Annie or as Marcel tried to impress her. In fact, as she thought of it now with the cold from the cobblestone streets seeping up through her shoes and making her toes ache, he had only ever spoken to her in short formal greetings, ‘Hello, Miss Suhr,’ he’d say in his fake-sounding politesse. 

Was that really it? She took another long sip and rocked on the bench thinking. No, he’d said one full sentence to her. The day the four young warriors left to go to Paradis. Thinking of them now her heart ached. She wondered how they were; if they even survived, if she’d see them again. She’d cried, in spite of herself as they watched them go and though she’d kept her breath even, tears had streamed down her face and no one had noticed. No one but Zeke, who’d quietly passed her a handkerchief and whispered, ‘you actually care about them,’ and then turned forward again, the sun’s glare off his glasses blocking his eyes from view. It was an odd thing to say she thought, a statement rather than a question. She wondered what he thought of her. It couldn’t be much, given how little they’d spoken. It was entirely possible he hated her or thought she was unattractive. That would make the plan much harder to enact.

She took another long sip of the sweet drink and thought of how her father had splayed papers out in front of her; his evidence that Zeke was descended from the Eldian royal line. If that were true, it would explain the mythic power of his scream. It would also make him an enemy of Marley and a target if her father shared his discovery with anyone else. But instead, he’d shuffled the papers back into his desk and locked them. He’d sweat grossly, his eyes had moved around the room avoiding Amelia’s insistent gaze. She had to ask him three times why he was telling her and not taking it to General Calvi directly.

She heard her father’s voice in her head, ‘You’ll...seduce him.’ She huffed, at least he’d had the decency to struggle with the word. When he finally admitted his goal he’d stared at his desk for a long time, Amelia struck still and silent until her father had finally looked in her eyes. 

Even thinking of his demand now Amelia felt a cold heat burning in the back of her head. She could have said no but he would punish her; lock her in her room or send her to the countryside under the guise of furthering her education. More importantly, if she didn’t go she wouldn’t have the perfect excuse to leave the house and walk out into the dark of night to continue the work she started three years ago. But for now, she had to serve her father’s goals, as despicable and impossible as they sounded.

She stood and tossed her now empty cup into the trash and walked out of the light of the street lamps, the city having long gone quiet around her.

⚯⚯⚯

The solid echo of the canvas ball hitting the wall was the only sound in the training area. Pieck and all the warrior candidates had retired what felt like hours ago. Even Colt who’d stayed throwing the ball with him for a while had gone to bed leaving Zeke with no one to practice with. Throwing against the wall wasn’t very exciting and his fingers were beginning to glow a bright pink from the cold. He tried to ignore it, he wanted to keep playing his game, keep doing something fun. With the younger warriors all gone, he spent his days watching over the few remaining candidates. With so many warriors freshly minted, there wasn’t a pressing need and the training served more to keep the Eldians pacified. Focused on some far off hope. After all, a placement among the warriors meant honorary Marleyan citizenship for them and their families. Of course, it was also a death sentence. 

The ball zipped past his head, bouncing on the ground and rolling to a stop across the courtyard. He hummed in surprise and followed after it lazily, “Must have been to in my head, huh.” he mused to himself, dropping the ball into the pocket of his overcoat. He pulled a cigarette and placed it between his lips, looking to the freshly shining moon. He lit a match, the flash of light blinding him briefly. He took a deep draw as he shook out the small flame. Letting his eyes adjust back to the darkness around him before he headed to his quarters, leaving a trail of smoke as he walked.

The barracks were quiet when he arrived, only a sleepy guard at the door who curtly reminded him to put out his cigarette before he headed in. Zeke stood by the other side of the door slowly finishing his smoke. He caught the guard glancing at him but when Zeke looked to the man he had quickly diverted his eyes. Zeke took another drag, feeling the soldier's scornful stare, and, sighing excessively asked, “Something to share?”

“No,” he said quickly slow to add, “sir,” with a bit of sarcasm that Zeke smiled at.

“Are you sure?” Zeke asked, allowing his smoke to curl from his mouth and water the man’s eyes.

“Absolutely,” he spoke, frowning as he resisted rubbing away the irritation.

“Well,” Zeke dropped his cigarette rubbing it out in the dirt, “let me know if you think of anything.” He looked at the man, forced a smile, and opened the door heading in leisurely.

It wasn’t hard to ignore the man’s strange behavior; Zeke was used to disappointed glances, his captains when he was training, his parents, and now Marleyan soldiers embittered by his ‘special treatment’ as the Warchief. The special treatment being private quarters, or, considering the wiretap in the megaphone, quarters where he had his own bed might be more appropriate. He glanced around the hall as he unlocked the door, the sconces on the walls seemed dimmer. All the rooms around him were quiet, their occupants having long gone to sleep. He was ready to go to bed, suddenly feeling cold and tired from his day and his practice late into the night but when he opened the door he immediately noticed a dim orange glow in his room. His room where he most certainly hadn’t left his light on. He prepared for General Calvi to be sitting by his desk, waiting for Zeke to come back to privately chastise him. But instead, with ankles demurely crossed and tucked to the side was Amelia Suhr, her light auburn hair almost looking blonde in the direct glow of the lamp above her.

Zeke’s quirked an eyebrow at her but stepped in and gently kicked the door shut behind him. She sat up slightly, her mouth parting as she began to speak. Zeke raised a finger, silencing her as he strode quickly to his record player. He pulled a vinyl and placed it on the board, switching the turntable on, filling the room with a low, expectant popping until the needle caught a groove and music swelled to fill the empty space around them. It might not hide everything in the coming conversation, but it would at least mask her voice. It would keep the higher-ups, her father included, from knowing she was the woman in his room in the middle of the night. 

Zeke leaned on the table, “What can I do for you?”

⚯⚯⚯

The violin gently trilled along, keeping the silence between them from being too overbearing. Zeke waited, leaning against the wooden side table and looking at her calmly for a moment. When she didn’t speak he smirked slightly and pushed off with his hip shrugging free of his coat. “Nothing, maybe? Miss Suhr?” he asked walking to the closet.

Amelia flinched, being in his room when he got back was strange enough. Being in his room and saying nothing was much stranger, even if Zeke was being calm about it. “I thought it would be nice to get to know you.”

He froze, holding his coat hanger, he looked over his shoulder at her as he hung it in his wardrobe, “Is that so?”

Amelia nodded, to displeased with her pathetic excuse to say anything more.

“Do you want to know something you couldn’t ask during the day time? Or did you want to know something about my bedroom specifically?”  
Amelia stood brushing her hair back over her shoulder, she slowly walked around the side of the room she was on, running her fingers over his records, “It is a nice room.”

“I like it all right, it’ll be a shame when I can’t stay in it anymore,” Zeke said, pulling his cigarettes from his pocket. He tilted the box toward her in offering. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke.”

“I hope you don’t mind-”

“By all means; it’s your room.”

His smirk was illuminated by the flash of the match, his eyes heavy and set on her in a mix of suspicion and amusement, “That’s a good point.”

Amelia flicked through his records, boring patriotic tunes he’d been given, some classic state-approved pieces, nothing more modern, not a single record with a singer, “Isn’t smoking banned inside the barracks?”

“Beautiful young daughters of high ranking officials are too, I’m pretty sure,” He took a long drag and spoke as he blew out the smoke, “though I don’t know that rule was stated so succinctly.” 

“Is that why you said that?” She asked, resting against the table as he had before.

“Mmm. Said what?”

“When you ‘can’t stay in it anymore’? Because of me,” Amelia asked, folding her arms in front of her a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth because Zeke clearly knew what she meant.

“Oooh,” he exaggerated, “Yes, I’m sure they’ll be quick to past the Beast Titan on if they find you here.”

“Then we’ll have to be sure they don’t find me. I don’t think I could handle that guilt.”

“And I have to hope you have an interesting reason for being here,” he tapped the ash from his cigarette onto the window sill, “to make the enormous risk worth it.”

For someone else, perhaps, this would have felt like the moment. When she would have unbuttoned her shirt, or slid the zipper of her skirt down and let it drop to the floor revealing her pale pink slip underneath. If she were an actress this would be the perfect moment to let the audience know without a shadow of a doubt what was coming next. Then the curtain would fall and she would rush off to the wings to change into her next costume. This wasn’t a play though. She couldn’t merely allude she would have to continue removing her clothes, bear herself to this man she hardly knew, and hope it was something he wanted. If it was then her first time would be forever marred by deception, one that would continue until she bore a child that would be torn from them both and sent to be raised for slaughter in the ghetto they called the internment zone. Even if she could push that from her head there was a look in Zeke’s eyes; judgment or suspicion maybe even disappointment. A stare that told her she would be dismissed if she pushed too quickly. 

“I suppose I think getting to know you is worth the risk but maybe you don’t feel the same?” She spoke, almost breathlessly. 

The corner of Zeke’s mouth quirked, “Well no offense, Miss Suhr, but you wouldn’t be the one dying.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mr. Yeager,” she cut back, tiring of being addressed so formally, “They wouldn’t kill you over me. Your skill is vastly more important than my unmarred beauty.”

There was a beat, the drums trilled loudly on the record, and then Zeke laughed. Smiling widely, amused in a way she was sure she’d never seen before. “You have a point-”

“Amelia.”

He raised an eyebrow, a now-familiar smirk spreading over his face, “And what if I call you Amelia in public?”

“You’re going to start talking to me in public?”

He huffed in amusement and put his cigarette out. He pulled the box from his pocket again and then paused, he patted it thoughtfully against his free hand, “You don’t like them do you?”

“I’m quickly adjusting.”

“Well...I would hate to bother my guest.”

“How kind,” Amelia smiled slowly, and then walked over to sit on the edge of his bed, pulling her legs on and bending them at the knees so her feet hung off the edge, heels barely clinging to her toes. “But if you might die for talking to me then I think you should at least be able to smoke.”

Zeke watched her for a moment, nearly laughing, his eyes lidded in a way that made Amelia have to fight the urge to squirm. He sighed, unbuttoning the top of his shirt and falling back into a chair by the window. He lit another cigarette and breathed it in deeply, causing the end to glow as he leaned his head back emphasizing his jaw and the muscles of his neck. Amelia sat up a little straighter, surprised at how hard he was to look away from. Suddenly his head rolled to the side, he shifted in his chair sitting forward again. “So if you don’t know what you want to know about me...why do you want to know something?”

She rolled the side of her neck gently as she thought, accidentally mimicking him in her desperation to move the tension from her body, “I’ve seen you for so long but we’ve never spoken much. It just feels weird, we’re practically the same age, aren’t we?”

His smile didn’t fade but he didn’t look in her eyes, looking out the window instead, as he took another draw, “Plenty of people are probably your age, Amelia. Marlayan boys. How old are you anyway?”

Amelia could feel him slipping away, coming to his senses to put an end to their banter, drawing back from her. She shifted forward, a shoe falling to the floor.

⚯⚯⚯

The coyness of her pose might have been fabricated but it was hard for Zeke to outright ignore it. In the moonlight, he could see the seam of her skirt straining from how she was sitting. Something about the way she sat on his bed made it seem much softer than Zeke knew it to be. The light from the window gave her skin a subtle glow and as she shifted toward him a curl of her hair bounced back forward over her shoulder, the buttons of her shirt pulling slightly. Zeke too an aggressive breath of smoke. He didn’t want to have to deal with this. He couldn’t risk any attachment, especially not a Marlayan woman, certainly not a high ranking one. 

“I’m only three years younger than you and I don’t care about that other I mean, I know…” she paused, thinking about her words, “I know a lot of people do. That-” she cut herself off, eyebrows crinkling her forehead. He knew what she wanted to say but he wouldn’t help, how she said it was important. “It matters that you're Eldian but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. It’s not a thing I want to ignore, you aren’t an exception. And I don’t want to get to know you just because you’re an Eldian either.”

He rested his arms on the chair. He could nit-pick it; call it a perfect response, something that sounded coached from whoever sent her as a trap into his room. Whoever wanted to sacrifice a young beautiful girl to cast him out of favor. But he couldn’t. Because she had to think, the thoughtful expression that played against her coy sex appeal from before. Maybe it was foolish but he felt she was being honest, “So you aren’t here to punish your parents?”

She laughed, light and airy, trying to cover her mouth to keep the secret of her presence, “You thought I came here to sleep with you?”

Zeke smirked again, tapping his cigarette on the quickly building pile on the window sill. She had, he wasn’t buying the get to know you act. She would have tried to speak to him until she was stopped otherwise, the way she did with the young warriors. She’d never drawn back from watching them spar, or listening to young Marcel’s stories; never shied away from his love-struck mooneyes. Maybe that’s why she seemed so believable before. But it was always Zeke himself who stopped the younger warriors from talking to her too long, Amelia seemed to want to get to know them. To care about them. He still remembered the way her tears had streamed down her face and off the gentle point of her chin when they left. When he looked at her again she’d grown embarrassed, smoothing her skirt a little. “I don’t think I believe you, Amelia.”

“Why is that?” she said, her voice curious and open.

“If you talked to the kiddies you could talk to me in the open. About some things at least. So why didn’t you?”

She seemed to pause and think. She played up her embarrassment, casting her eyes down and drawing her shoulders in. Fake, but cute. The record began to pop having reached the end of the first side. Before Zeke could move she unfolded a leg and stood off the bed, walking shoeless now to the record and lifting the needle. She flipped the record and set it, waiting for the music to track again before she turned and spoke, “Talking to cute little kids was different than talking to you, a man my age. A man who, I’ll remind you, always cut me off from talking to the kids for long. Why would I try and talk directly to you then?”

His eyebrow raised, impressed. He smiled and watched as she came toward the end of the bed, sitting just on the edge. She was so close now he could see how her collarbone moved as she breathed. “I see, my stoicism enticed you?”

“It made me curious,” she braced her hands on the bed, which pushed her chest out just enough for him to notice. Just enough for him to wish he hadn’t. “About you, the kids look up to you so much and you seem so nice to them. I see you goofing around with them and playing baseball. It’s nice...to see when so many seem so…”

“Depressed?” He quickly filled. Disappointed in his comfort, in how much her charm and appearance had distracted him.

“That’s one way to put it,” She frowned, looking at the space between their feet, “I just...thought I would try and talk to you. Because I never have. And we’ve been around each other for a long time. I remember when you were my age, when you inherited the titan. I wasn’t there but. I remember you coming back wearing your glasses suddenly.”

Zeke nodded, it was a sad thought but he was glad for the reminder of his mentor it helped cool his head down. Still, when he looked up and met her patient stare, her hazel eyes expectantly scanning his face he felt a heat build in his chest. He’d denied himself that sort of connection, the physical attention of another person. Celibacy was an unspoken expectation of the warriors. They were meant to be solely focused on defending Marley, grinding away their short terms only thinking about the wars they were sent to fight. Plenty of Warriors still tried to have relationships with various levels of success but for Zeke’s goal, he needed to be alone, to be working, to throw himself to the mission to end Eldian suffering. 

But Amelia came seeking him out. How many times had he watched her walk into the training grounds? Playing and chatting with the warriors under his leadership, kindly praising them unafraid of their affection. Her father was a pompous self-important man, focused on status symbols but Zeke often caught Amelia, a gentle curt smile behind him, eyes exposing a judgment for her father he couldn’t perceive. She was quickwitted and attentive, and Zeke had allowed an affection to develop unfettered thinking it would never be an issue.

He put his cigarette out on the window sill, listening to the fizzle before pulling himself up. He took a step toward her and she looked up at him, eyes expectant, but he’d already seen it, the slight shift back as he approached, the disinterested withdrawal she tried to playoff. It was all he needed to divert himself, passing by her instead of drawing her body against his own. 

“Zeke? Did...I upset you?” 

Zeke looked over his shoulder, seeing the concern on her face. He turned back to the water he was pouring, “No, not at all. Just thirsty. I only have water but-” he turned, offering her a glass which she hesitantly took. She took a sip, her eyes focused on him in an unbearable way.

“So...you want to get to know me. Then we have to talk,” Zeke said, sitting in the chair she’d been in when he walked in the room. She turned, confused but quickly relaxing. She shifted to sit on the bed facing him, more comfortable than the coquettish pose she’d sat in earlier.

She drank another sip of her water and slowly smiled, “Why is all of your music so bad?”

⚯⚯⚯

They had talked until the sky just began to turn a lighter shade of blue, just enough sunlight seeping over the horizon to make the outline of the buildings outside visible. A layer of unsleeved vinyls laid on the side table. Amelia turned suddenly aware of the light outside, “Oh…”

“Ah...you finally noticed,” Zeke sighed.

“I thought you said you were going to be killed if they found me here?”

His smirk bloomed again, “Well you convinced me otherwise remember?”

She rolled her eyes slightly standing off the bed where she’d sat since they began talking. She walked to his wardrobe and opened the door, exposing the mirror she’d noticed when he hung his coat. She smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt from sitting on the bed, straightened the lines of her tights so they ran down the back of her legs again. She could feel Zeke’s eyes focused on her as she did. She lingered, fussing with her tights longer than needed enjoying the focus she’d taken.

“Well do you need help or are you really just teasing me?” He called.

She gave short laugh, straightening up to fix her hair, “Sorry, but if you hadn’t been staring so hard I wouldn’t have teased you.”

Zeke hummed in disapproval but his eyes stayed focused with a charming gentle stare, “You know I might not survive today anyway, I won’t get to sleep at all before I report in.”

“Then should I not come back?”

“Maybe not,” He said, her heart catching short in panic. It must have reflected on her face because Zeke gave her a teasing look, “tomorrow. You can come again after I get a night’s sleep. Did you think I would say something else?”

She frowned which made him laugh again, “We’re more even now. Since you broke into my room after all...Amelia.”

The way he said her name, in low tones his voice slowing every time, made her head rush. Maybe he was just doing it for safety. Someone must be listening given how he pointed to the megaphone before they first spoke, he might just want to make her name harder to pick up. Maybe he saw how she shifted her weight when he said her name and took his chance to tease her. He was just more genial than she expected. Much more handsome and charming than she’d been prepared for. He stepped into her, the smell of smoke carried on his cotton shirt even though he’d long stopped lighting cigarettes. “You’ll come back then, right?”

“I guess I couldn't know you well enough after one night.”

“No, that would be a big ask.”

“So I’ll have to but not—tomorrow.”

“—tomorrow,” he said with her, “That’s right. Sometime after that. I guess you’ll break in again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if I was invited but, I think I will,” she met his eyes. He was close to her. More desirable than she’d expected. She wanted to blame it on the rush of excitement. Maybe he liked her more than she thought, maybe it was a surge of confidence from her lies getting her through the door. She wanted it to be anything but his flirtatious teasing, the mysterious way he had withdrawn from some questions, and the bold honesty he’d given in other answers. It had to be anything but his large powerful hands and the way the smoke gave a rasp to his voice. If he became truly charming to her it would only hurt more in the future. She wondered why he’d suddenly stopped before when his eyes seemed to focus on her animalistically and his strong body had stepped slowly in toward her own. It was hard to believe he’d noticed the moment that she waivered, suddenly nerve ridden at the thought of being taken by a man she hardly knew. Perhaps she’d misread his look but if she hadn’t then he must have noticed her withdrawal and decide to silently honor it. If so then...somehow it made everything much worse.

“You’ll be okay walking on your own?” Zeke asked, though he had to know he couldn’t walk her to her home. There was a grim look on his face, a recognition that it was an empty offer.

She nodded, “I walked here on my own, after all. Try to sleep so you don’t get in too much trouble.”

“Mmm...that...seems unavoidable now,” he rubbed the back of his head. 

They lingered awkwardly, she didn’t know how to say goodbye when they’d meeting in public again soon, pretending to not know each other.

Zeke huffed and then took a step in, his long legs bringing him right in front of her, his chest just below her line of vision. He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “I’d try and kiss you but you keep looking so nervous.”

She didn’t look him in the eye, instead, she spoke over his shoulder, tilting her head to his ear in turn, “Anyone would be nervous if you did this to them, Zeke.”

“So what does that mean?” he asked, drawing back and looking at her evenly.

“It means maybe you should think about that before next time,” she said, smiling gently before she turned to the door and opened it, peeking into the hall before looking back at him. He seemed relieved but he was still frowning slightly as she left the room.

The walk from the barracks was quick. She ignored the guard by the door, the note from her father had somehow called them off though she was certain her reputation wouldn’t remain unmarred. Fortunately, many high ranking unmarried Marlayan officers lived in the same building as the Warchief, she assumed that was the cover. But that didn’t matter to her, it couldn’t hurt her more than the truth would. The morning air felt wet and cold around her, small clouds forming as she breathed. The early morning work was beginning, baker's ovens throwing smoke into the sky and newsboys rushing past her on bikes. No one looked at her, they didn’t care what she did, they didn’t know where she’d just been. It was comforting in a strange, distancing way.

Then the door to her family home seemed to loom over her in its dark wood stain. She walked up the steps and unlocked the heavy door. She stepped inside and slid off her heels, holding them in her hand as she padded up the grand staircase. She held her breath past her parents room and opened her door as small as she could and still slip inside. With the door locked behind her, she pulled free of her clothes and collapsed in her bed, the smell of smoke in her hair reminding her of the pale blonde man that her mind gleefully focused on as she forced herself to sleep.


	2. Alone in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia and Zeke are both left reeling after the strange night before and Amelia finally gets to use the situation to her advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: description of sexual arousal

It had to be midday by the time Amelia finally woke up. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling of her room. In the harsh light of day, she felt embarrassed. She groaned holding the sides of her head and shutting her eyes. She saw Zeke the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, his head arched back exposing the smooth skin of his neck. “Ugh…” she opened her eyes. Her face felt hot. She rubbed her thighs together and squirmed in the bed. She was familiar with the sensation of arousal but she didn’t think she’d ever felt it so strongly. Maybe it was just because she’d never really been attracted to someone in particular before, any arousal she’d felt prior was just a passing moment motivated by nothing other than biology. All of the boys that had started coming around, leaning on the gate to the house or opening doors for her at the compound were Marleyan soldiers, people she’d seen actively committing abuses against Eldians which instantly made them repulsive to her. She sat up and threw the covers off marching to her bathroom. 

She splashed cold water on her face. Zeke may be an Eldian himself but he was different. He served the military. He’d chosen to work against his own people. He’d turned his own parents in for fighting for their freedom. He’d do the same to her if he knew the truth. She swallowed hard staring at herself in the mirror. She’d been pushing that thought away but the cold truth was she was cornered on all sides now. It made her heart race. She hadn’t felt this terrified since she’d first stolen an Elidan armband and snuck into the Internment Zone. The thought of being turned in now, some three years into her work by an Eldian no less was bone-chilling. 

She took a deep breath and straightened herself, “Okay...it’s fine, you’re fine,” she told her reflection. She washed her face and, catching a whiff of her smoke drenched hair, sprayed her perfume on the strands and loosely french braided it down the back of her head so the end sat just between her shoulder blades. She hoped the style would keep it from swishing around and giving on the smell of Zeke’s cigarettes until she could wash it. She pulled on her slip and then her thin green linen dress. She fussed with the dress until the darts under the bust sat nicely and cinched the belt of the dress tightly around her waist. She fluffed the sleeves, set the collar against her neck, and then quickly pulled on her tan tights. Sliding into her low brown heels before hurrying down the steps.

She’d hoped to slip out before her mother noticed, but right as her foot hit the floor Silke called out, “Amelia?”

Amelia tossed her head back in silent annoyance, “Yes, Mama?”

“Come here!” Silke called from the drawing room.

Amelia’s sighed quietly but did what she was asked. She vastly preferred to avoid her mother when given the chance. Silke’s father ran a garment factory just inside the ghetto and, since the Eldians were paid with store credits rather than the money Marlayans would be paid, Ulrich was filthy rich. Silke was his only child, a nervous-natured and sickly creature her whole life, the propaganda Marley pumped into her head about Eldians quickly spiraled into an unreasonable fear that had kept her inside the house as a child too petrified to go outside of her father’s mansion that boarded the internment zone wall. As a teenager, Ulrich started forcing Silke out into the social scene tired of her shut-in nature. It was at one of these she’d caught the eye of Wilhelm, then a low-rank no account soldier in the PSA. Once he’d worked his way up to Major he’d asked for her hand when Silke was only seventeen, somewhat ironically, the age Amelia was now. Wilhelm had been in his mid-thirties, and, according to Silke, she had no idea he had feelings for her until he asked to marry her. All of which sounded repulsive to Amelia but, the large mansion Silke spent most of her days in seemed to suit her skittish nature well. 

“What is it, Mama?” Amelia said, lingering in the doorway hoping she wouldn’t have to stay long.

“Did you just wake up?” Silke said, her eyes cast in concern from the plush couch she was propped on.

“Well, I’ve been up for a little bit now,” Amelia offered.

“It’s just...it’s unlike you to sleep late, do you not feel well?” Silke held out a hand toward Amelia but she didn’t stand.

Amelia stayed in the door, “No, Mama, I feel fine.”

“Come, let me feel your head,” Silke said, waving her thin fingers at her.

Amelia sighed, but walked over and leaned to her mother’s touch. Silke’s fingers were soft and frigid. It made Amelia flinch away from her touch quickly, “You ought to sit by the fire, your hands are cold.”

“I thought you felt a little warm. Hilde,” Silke called past Amelia to a passing maid, “fetch Amelia some tea.”

“Oh,” Amelia twisted and called after Hilde, “Don’t mind with that, I’m going out.”

Silke frowned, “You’re always off and about. It looks tiring. Your father wants you to do so much.”

“Father?” Amelia frowned, she’d planned to go out to the shopped, grab a few supplies she’d need for the night.

‘Yes, did you not see his note? He wants you to go by his office. Honestly, he treats you like a member of the military-”

Before Silke could continue Amelia turned and headed to the door, “Then I ought to go, I’m sure I’m later than he wanted, see you at dinner, Mama.”

By the way that Silke huffed, Amelia was sure she pouted after her. But she was glad to be free of her mother, even if she had to divert to her father first. She pulled on her heavy wool coat and rushed out the door, jogging down the steps and hurrying to the military base she’d been out just hours ago.

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke poured his third coffee of the day, the jittering of his hand showing signs of the caffeine that refused to make him actually feel awake. 

“Uhm…” Colt spoke, an eyebrow deeply furrowed, “Are...you okay, Zeke?”

Zeke squinted at Colt, “No. I feel awful. Couldn’t sleep a wink.”

“Why not?”

“Horrible stomach bug. Just back and forth from the bathroom all night,” Zeke sighed, taking a long sip of coffee.

Colt grimaced, Zeke had figured out long ago that talk of the bathroom typically stopped any line of questioning dead in its tracks. Certainly a strange tactic, but one that served him well so far, even if a large portion of the Marlayan military must have thought he had a stomach made of crepe paper. Then Colt smiled and shook his head, he was a genial guy only two years younger than Zeke himself, “Well if that’s the problem I don’t think coffee will help.”

“Don’t worry I don’t have much left to give,” Zeke smirked.

“Don’t have much what?” Commander Magath asked as he walked into the room. 

Zeke eyed Colt briefly, “Ah. Shit, sir.”

Magath stopped short, staring blankly at Zeke before shaking his head, “Honestly, Zeke, talk to medical.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” He answered as the Commander brushed past him to pour coffee for himself.

“Well if you two are done with your little chat get back to work, you’ve got people to train.”

“Yes, sir,” they saluted and headed back out into the yard.

Catching their eyes, Pieck wandered over, her crutch thumping hollowly on the frozen ground, “Hey, you two.”

“Why are you...ahm…” Colt began, Zeke understood. Though he’d been in the Warrior Unit almost as long as Zeke, he wasn’t used to Pieck’s unique position. More often in her titan form than as her delicate human self.

“Bipedal?” she offered with a breathy laugh, “Commander Suhr is...well,” she tilted her head toward the rifle grounds. 

Zeke and Colt exchanged a quick look, it was never a fun day when the Commander came out of his offices to mess with the soldiers. Today Marlayans and Eldians alike were lined up getting a lecture on rifles. Zeke sighed and chugged the rest of his coffee, setting the cup on a post before nodding his head toward the line. 

The three shuffled into the back line with a curt nod from the Commander as he spoke, “Fire!” he called, and the front line all shot their targets, young recruits rushing out to change the papers.

“Pathetic!” Commander Suhr yelled, “Not a kill shot among you! A soldier in the Marlayan army shouldn’t rely on the number of shots they take to finish an enemy but on the quality. Next line!”

The front line rushed to get behind the line Zeke now stood in, immediately cocking their guns and pulling them to their shoulders waiting for the order. He gave Colt a shrug and turned back to face forward. Slowly, the lines rotated, soldiers dismissed to like the sides and watch as they achieved the shots the Commander desired. Zeke and Colt succeeded in their first go, years of experience with the rifles made it second nature to them. Peick joined them a turn later, less familiar with the weapon and disadvantaged by her unstable leg. They watched as Commander Suhr grew more and more furious with the remaining soldiers.

Zeke stood at attention as he was expected to, watching as the Commander laid into a young Eldian boy, one of the last left shooting. He’d completely missed the target, the bullet hitting the ground and throwing dirt into the air behind it. The boy looked close to tears, inadvisable in Zeke’s experience. 

“Father,” Amelia’s voice called, gently pushing through the Marlayan soldiers on the other side.

Commander Suhr straightened, still red in the face from screaming, “Amelia, perfect timing. Take this boy’s gun.”

Amelia grimaced, “Father I-”

“I need you to take the gun and help me prove a point, Amelia,” Suhr said, a harsh edge in his voice.

Amelia went quiet, eying her father as she walked to the boy, “May I?”

The boy nodded, sheepishly passing the gun to her hands. She pressed the stock to her shoulder and looked down the barrel. Twisted it slightly, and took a shot that pierced through the head of a target down the range. Zeke’s eyebrows raised.

“My daughter, a civilian in her lovely coat, can shoot better than you, soldier,” the Commander said, looming over the boy. “How does that make you feel?”

“Father,” Amelia cut the boy off, “This gun’s badly twisted.”

The Commander seemed to grit his teeth, turning to Amelia, “What?”

She raised the gun slightly, “I only made the shot because I noticed the sight was off, feels like the barrel is twisted. Being he’s so young I don’t think his arms are long enough to really feel it. Give him a good gun and I’m sure he’d make the shot. He’s one of your soldiers after all.”

The Commander caught in his anger, seemed flustered, he snatched a rifle from another Eldian nearby and shoved it into the terrified boy’s hands, “Well let’s test that theory.”

The boy raised the gun, hands shaking and took a shot. Right through the chest of the silhouette down the rage, a kill shot. He fell back washed in relief, and Zeke saw Amelia straighten, her mouth threatening to break into a smile but she left herself still curtly nodding to her father. She passed the damaged rifle to a Marlayan soldier, a young petty officer Zeke believed was named Romer, who’d been hovering at her elbow since she’d brushed past him.

“You’re lucky my daughter was here to help you out, keep in mind she won’t be around in a war, think about that when you clean all these rifles, give them to him boys,” the Commander spoke, looking down his nose at the boy. 

Marlayan soldiers chuckled as they roughly dropped the rifles at the boy’s feet. Zeke walked his own over, gently setting it down and looking regretfully at the boy who would more than likely be cleaning rifles into the early morning. At least, he was free of the damaged gun and Commander Suhr’s screaming. 

He looked up, searching for Amelia, hoping they might share a glance. A confirmation of their long chat the night before and their plan to do it again soon but she was already walking away. Her father’s hand guiding her into the officer’s building by the small of her back.

He rubbed the back of his head, feeling stupid for wanting to catch her eye, and turned to Colt, “Baseball?”

“Baseball,” Colt answered.

⚯⚯⚯

Her father, once angry, couldn’t let it go. She’d stopped his rage at the boy so now he was mad with nowhere to place it. He hadn’t spoken to her yet, but she could tell by the redness gathered in his face and the way his hand pressed firmly to her back even though she didn’t need to be guided to the office he’d had her whole life. Pushing at her back was his way of dragging her along, a way to feel in control.

She stepped quickly into his office, rolling her eyes as he slammed the door behind her, “I know you love the attention you get from your little Eldian pets but you don’t have to save all of them, Amelia.”

She turned, looking at him sternly enough that his eyebrows briefly jolted in surprise, “I wouldn’t have said anything if you didn’t make me take a shot, Father. I noticed the gun was damaged so I let you know so you didn’t waste time screaming at a child.”

“You just don’t understand…” he shook his head, walking around to sit at his desk, “I’ve made your life too easy, so easy you don’t understand how dangerous those monsters can be.”

“Not too dangerous though, I suppose, given where you sent me,” Amelia looked down her nose keenly aware it was a habit of his, her eyes cold and glassy.

The color drained from her father’s face. He seemed to deflate briefly and then bluster back up. Unable to accept his daughter cutting into him, “You’re doing a service to your country you-”

“I’m doing a service to you, Father,” Amelia said, calmly sitting in the chair that faced her father’s desk, “that’s right, isn’t it? You really aren’t going to tell General Calvi or the other Commanders.”

“Amelia you-”

“Father,” Amelia spoke, surprisingly loud and harsh, “You threw me into the bed of one of them. If I’m nice to a crying Eldian child you’ll have to forgive me. I’m having to be very kind to Zeke, after all.” She had been in Zeke’s bed, after all, and she’d been nice to him. She didn’t figure her father needed to know the finer details, she doubted he wanted to.

His face reddened, embarrassed rather than angry, “Amelia, I…”

“Why did you want to see me?”

“I...want a report, about your visit to him,” He looked uncomfortable. He must have thought he’d be able to think of this more subjectively than he could. 

“It went as well as you could expect, I guess. Zeke is a loyal Warrior, after all. He mostly seemed confused about me being there, maybe a little scared. I imagine he’d be punished horribly if someone found out. Or so he thinks,” Amelia said, leaning on the back of her chair.

“And did you…,” he swallowed, rolling his neck.

“Did I…?” Amelia said, mock innocence in her tone making her father grimace at her.

“You know what I’m asking, Amelia,” he barked.

She sighed, “Forgive me, Father. I’m just,” she frowned casting her eyes down, “it was a very hard thing to do. And then I arrive and you pull me into a military exercise and yell at me. It’s just-”

Like clockwork her father softened, roughly rubbing a hand over his face, “I know, I’m sorry, dear. I...I hate putting this on you but I don’t have any other choice. You’ve been my little soldier your whole life, I couldn’t trust anyone else even though it kills me. Even seeing his face today I…” he grit his teeth, “this is harder on both of us than I expected.”

Amelia’s stomach twisted, “You can’t let on that you know anything. Promise? I understand why you’d hate him but...if he knew you knew I...I can’t imagine what that would do to the plan.”

“Of course,” He nodded, “I won’t put your sacrifice to waste, Amelia. What you’re doing for Marley is beyond what many women will ever do. I’ll ensure your life is a dream after this.”

She forced herself to smile, “I know, Father. I’m going to go into town okay. I want to buy a few things.” 

“Of course,” he nodded, “I’m...It’s good that the plan is in motion.”

Amelia stood, leaning over the desk to press her lips to her father’s forehead, her hand ghosting over some papers, calmly folding them into her palm as she pulled her hand away and straightened up, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

He gave her a short nod and she headed out into the yard, she moved quickly, trying to avoid seeing Zeke. The fight with her father was frustrating but pretty predictable for him, he’d once again overestimated himself in this plan. Overestimated his power over Amelia, his control over his emotions. Though she hadn’t shared he’d underestimated Zeke, by thinking he was some debased animal that would throw Amelia into his bed simply provided the opportunity. But none of that mattered, Wilhelm had long underestimated her and he could continue doing so as long as she got to use it to her advantage. 

⚯⚯⚯

The rest of the day passed without much incident. Zeke played baseball with Colt for hours, as he always did. They even gathered enough young candidates to have a real game. Running bases that they’d made out of sandbags meant for trenches. 

Zeke retired from dinner as soon as he’d finished, telling a concerned Colt that he was right about the coffee to fend off the young cadet’s curiosity. Zeke truly cared about him, much like himself, Colt was forced into military service by his family’s actions paying a high price for a crime he didn’t commit but even with that similarity, he couldn’t let him too close. When he was younger, when he first promised Tom that he would end Eldian suffering, he hadn’t thought about how lonely it would be. How few people he could trust. Even then, those few people were scattered all over on their own missions.

He sighed, laying back against his pillow and catching a whiff of orange. He furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head to the side, pressing his face to the pillow and breathing in. Orange, vanilla, and a sort of warm musky smell. Amelia’s perfume, he thought. He could almost see her, holding his pillow to her chest, her head resting on it sleepily as they talked last night. He hadn’t noticed earlier because he had to ready himself for the day almost as soon as Amelia left his room, he’d never even laid down.

He felt foolish. Looking after her in the yard that day like he used to tease Marcel for. But her quick retorts and easy smile made him want to ignore his suspicions. The smell of her perfume reminded him of when he’d stood close enough to feel her breath on the shell of his ear as he confessed to wanting to kiss her. He thought of the moonlight casting his skin in a gentle glow making it look irresistibly touchable.

He folded his glasses and rested them on the side table. He remembered the first time he’d seen her. When he was just a boy, still wearing his hair in a middle part and struggling to run the training course. She hadn’t noticed him, she was too focused on her father, holding his hand and looking up to him. He couldn’t think of the moment when it had changed, when she’d stopped looking up and her dad and the other commanders and started looking out at the trainees. He knew there was always an honest softness in the way she treated them. When she’d wiped the blood from Reiner’s broken nose with the sleeve of her shirt it had been out of genuine concern, the harsh words she’d barked at the Marlayan soldier that had struck him shocked them all. Even her, he’d guess, by the way she’d flustered after. 

Maybe that had been the moment when an affection for her first sparked. If not he wasn’t sure when. He had never really thought it would matter. Now she’d snuck in his room, spoken of a secret interest in him, left her sweet smell behind in his bed. It all seemed too good to be true, a returned interest from such an unattainable person couldn’t be anything good. A trap from the higher-ups at worst, misguided rebellion on her part at best. Despite all his better judgment, he found himself looking forward to the next sleepless night as he fell asleep breathing in her perfume.

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia slid the box of clothes out from under her bed quietly. In silence, she pulled on a pair of ratty old pants, a thick sweater, and boots. She tied a scarf over her hair and slid the old armband in her pocket to put on later. She checked her bag again. The papers she’d stolen from her father’s desk; clearance papers to visit Liberio proper from the internment zone, and store credits. She brought some medicine and candies. A small bottle of alcohol for her friend. 

Throwing the bag over her shoulder she quickly headed out from her room. It was long into the night now but she could still hear her father scratching away at his writing. She tipped toed past his door and then quickly out into the brisk night.

It wasn’t a long walk to the internment zone wall but it always made her adrenaline rush, her blood rushing in her ears. It might be easier if she could change before she crawled through a broken section of the fence, but she was lying on both sides. Beyond the high barbed wire-rimmed fence, she was called Esther. Her friends and the people they brought to her for help believed she was an Eldian woman working in an officer’s house. That part at least was a fabrication of their own. A story they suggested and she failed to deny. She’d only lied about her name and her ethnicity. She didn’t enjoy it. She wished they knew who she really was, but that would be selfish. Telling them would only make her feel like a ‘good’ Marlayan. Even after all these years of work if they knew they would probably reject her, terrified that it was a long plot to catch them. They wouldn’t be wrong either, to cast suspicion on a Marlayan especially given she had been lying to them since she was a fourteen year old. 

The deceit was worth it though. Bringing credits they could use for food, medicine, and most importantly forged passes to get into the main section of the city. These passes allowed Eldians to visit their children in the warrior program, or go to doctors for special care if they could find any willing to help Eldians outside of the ghetto itself. It also made it easier for some brave souls to escape, casting their armbands off and slipping into Marleyan society undetected. 

Reaching the gate, Amelia pushed her fingers through the cold wire and pulled back, opening the cut section just enough she could slip through, but not without ripping her pants yet again, the cold metal scoring her thigh. She hissed slightly, but pulled the rest of the way through, tugging the wire back behind her. She pulled the armband from her pocket and slipped it up her arm carefully pinning it in place. Putting both her hands on the strap of her bag, she rushed through the dark alleyways towards her friend’s house just as she had hundreds of times before.


	3. Guards and Locked Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke and Amelia haven't seen each other for a while and Amelia learns more details of her father's plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Descriptions of arousal and very mild romantic contact.

Zeke stepped from the barracks and out into the bright sun of midday, the cold wind sweeping at the edges of his coat. He sighed, pulling a cigarette from his carton. With the cigarette dangling between his lip, he struggled to guard the match against the wind. He had not slept well the past few nights, not because Amelia had come to his room but because she hadn’t. Since her first visit more than a week had gone by. He began to wonder if it was simply a test he had passed and so she no longer needed to visit him. It would explain the anger he’d seen barely disguised on Commander Suhr’s face, not that Commander Suhr had particularly liked him before. If not that, he thought, then maybe Amelia had come to her senses in their night apart. Maybe she’d realized it was foolish to spend her time with him, dangerous even and had moved on. She hadn’t come to the base either, not since the day after her visit when her father guided her into his office so Zeke hadn’t been able to see her and judge her expression for himself. 

He sat heavily on a bench. It was frustrating. That small visit had stirred his dormant feelings badly, turning a passing interest into desire. Even though the smell of her perfume had long faded from his pillow, at night his head was clouded with thoughts of what her mouth would feel like against his own, of what sounds she might make if her body was pressed into his mattress by his. He’d been smoking more. Trying to use nicotine and tobacco to relax his nerves. 

“Warchief Zeke,” Colt called walking up.

“Hey, Colt,” Zeke said, taking another long breath of smoke. “What is it?”

“Nothing we just didn’t know where you were,” Colt gave him a small grin, “Hope your stomach hasn’t been giving you any more issues.”

Zeke smirked behind his cigarette, “No just taking a break to smoke and think. Are the kids running their drills?”

“Ah, well. They were,” Colt said, sheepishly touching the side of his face. “Miss Suhr just dropped by though so now they’re mostly all just playing with her.”

Before Colt had finished his sentence Zeke was standing. Colt blinked, surprised and a little confused, as Zeke spoke, “Well let’s go then, Miss Suhr has a habit of getting too friendly with the kids, it might get them in trouble.”

Colt nodded, and lead the way to the training ground. For the most part, the kids were still training, though some were distracted looking over to her and a small group of the younger ones. Eldian children could become warrior candidates at the tender age of five and it was these children Amelia had a particular fondness for. As Zeke and Colt walked up a young girl was placed in Amelia’s lap, giggling to the others as Amelia’s fingers raked through her hair.

“We’ll get your hair pulled out of your face, and then this’ll all be easier, you’ll see,” Amelia cooed, grinning at the other kids. “I wear my hair in a braid for just that reason.”

“So you can shoot better?” One of the girls asked, tossing herself down roughly beside Amelia who laughed gently at her.

“Oh yes, you never know when you might need to,” Amelia said back, something that sounded a little odd to Zeke. He looked at Colt and Colt’s concerned expression made it clear he felt the same.

“Miss Suhr,” Zeke spoke, nodding his head to her politely.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her own braid coming undone in different places, messy but pleasant-looking still, “Hello,” she smiled, nodding back to him before returning to the task at hand.

“I don’t know that having their hair braided is the best use of the cadets' time, Miss Suhr,” Zeke offered, tossing the remains of his cigarette to the ground.

“Once they’ve learned they’ll know to do it themselves, I’m sure it isn’t too much time from their day,” she smiled, holding the girl's arms playfully and leaning around to see her face, “Don’t you think?”

The girl giggled and grinned at Amelia then twisted to look at Zeke with large brown eyes, “Please, Warchief Zeke? My hair gets all in my face!” Over the girl’s shoulder, Amelia was staring at him, a small smile tugging on her lips, clearly confident that the cute pleading would soften him. 

“...Okay, I suppose,” He sighed, looking behind him toward the barracks, awaiting a frustrated Commander Magath.

The young candidates bouched excitedly and Amelia focused on the hair in her hands, didn’t cast her eyes to him. It was almost as though nothing had happened between them at all. With one braid finished a new girl took to her lap and Amelia went about explaining how the girl could braid her own hair, guiding the girl’s hands over the thin blonde strands. Other girls sitting nearby copied her, or braided another girl’s hair, and soon there was an army of single braided girls rushing back to their guns to continue their training. 

Amelia stood, brushing the grass from the back of her skirt. Finally, her eyes turned to his, a small private smile on her face before she turned to Colt.

“Thanks for letting me interrupt,” she said, her mouth pulling into a wider more teasing grin.

“Oh, no…! I really it wasn’t a problem,” Colt fumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment that made Zeke smirk slightly.

Amelia’s eyes flashed with amusement, “I’m sorry maybe I misunderstood your collecting Zeke as me being a problem.”

Colt’s mouth opened but he failed to speak, his redness worsened, and Amelia snickered. A tiny puff of a laugh. She shook her head, I’m only teasing you, Colt. It’s probably best for Zeke to be around when I visit. He’s good at reminding me when I’m being too friendly.”

The corner of Zeke’s mouth quirked uncomfortably, trying hard to pull into a smile despite his better judgment, “Only for your safety, Miss Suhr.” His voice felt clipped. Maybe it was stupid but perhaps he was a little bitter, annoyed with her for failing to return to him. Upset that he didn’t know the reason for her visit or lack thereof now.

If she noticed she didn’t let on, she turned to watch the children training. The look in her eyes dimmed, a sort of melancholy settling into her face. Zeke turned standing near her and watched them. For a moment, in the silence, even with Colt hovering nearby in clear confusion, it felt as though they were together. Equals in public. Her hand only a small reach away from his own.

“Miss Suhr!” the weak tempered voice of Romer, cut through the air. Romer was a no-account petty officer under Commander Suhr’s direct supervision. He had muddy brown hair and a dull expression. Overall his appearance was normal, so much so that it was boring, except for his mouth which was ever so slightly too wide from corner to corner. It was only brief but Zeke saw a look of frustration pass over Amelia’s face, she took a deep breath and the look melted away. Replaced by a pleasant smile. She turned to face the rushed officer.

“Good afternoon, Romer,” she said, curtly nodding to him as he glanced between Zeke and Colt who now stood just over either of her shoulders.

“You shouldn’t be out here with them by yourself, Amelia,” his use of her first name made Zeke’s eyebrow twitch in curiosity as he fought to flatten his expression and stand at attention.

“Mr. Fernow,” Amelia’s voice was curt, though Zeke couldn’t see her expression he was sure the sudden switch to Romer’s surname was a punishment. A polite way to tell him he was out of line to call her by her first name. “I come here quite often, and I have since I was a child. I’ll continue to. I can assure you my father taught me well and I know what is dangerous and what is not.”

Romer’s lips pursed. He always hovered around her father at the base, and around Amelia when she was there. Zeke was sure he a dream of wooing her father and being wed to Amelia. Winning his way into the money and power Wilhelm Suhr had so cleverly amassed by marrying his young wife. “...Be that as it is, I would hate-”

“Mr. Fernow, why did you come out here? To warn me or is there something else?” Amelia’s voice was even but her tone was harsher, she’d drawn her shoulders back.

“...Your father would like to see you,” Romer answered shortly. 

“Ah, I didn’t know he knew I’d come,” Amelia sighed, looking back at the kids as they practiced with their bayonets. She’d turned toward the side Zeke was on and though her body was still turned toward the young trainees, her eyes were locked with his own. She smiled at him gently, then cast her eyes down and turned back to Romer. “I’ll be off then.”

Romer’s turned, stiffly presenting his elbow to Amelia, who looked down at it in confusion before meeting his eyes, “I think I can manage the walk without help, but we can walk together.”

His arm lowered quickly, embarrassed, “Of course, I’d be happy to,” he smiled at her and she began to walk, Romer briefly looking back at Zeke and Colt with a contemptful stare before catching up to Amelia’s side.

⚯⚯⚯

He talked too much. That’s what Amelia decided was Romer’s biggest problem. Or rather, he talked too much about things that weren’t actually interesting or insightful. Even though the walk from the practice field to her father’s office was brief he’d managed to talk about her dress, about his supposed upcoming promotion, about the Eldian squadron he’d soon be the captain of and their poor performance he intended to turn around, and, most uncomfortably, how his mother wanted him to get married. 

In terms of personality and performance, Romer was a normal Marleyan soldier. 

His most outstanding feature was his complete and utter dedication to licking her father’s boots. From Amelia’s limited insight, Romer had probably romanticized her father’s climb up the ranks. The Suhr’s weren’t a family of note, they’d been poor and in ill repute. Wilhelm had just been cruel, conniving, and lucky enough to climb the ranks and marry a rich woman. Then he’d decided his wife’s family was his own and had abandoned his parents, Amelia’s paternal grandparents whom she believed were alive somewhere outside of Liberio though she’d never met them.

“Amelia?” Romer's voice brought her out of her fog.

“Oh sorry, I got lost in thought,” she said, glancing at the hall where her father’s office door sat not far away.

“No that’s...that’s okay did you hear what I said?”

“I’m afraid not,” she frowned, embarrassed to have been so in her own thoughts even if it was just Romer.

“I was just talked about how I have some free time, this weekend I’m on leave so I can spend it however I want,” he lingered, his head quirked to the side. An uncomfortable but pleasant look on his face. Amelia crossed her arms in front of herself, clasping a hand around the opposing wrist, as subtle of a closed gesture as she could make. She had no desire to be used like her mother had, a pawn in some soldier’s climb to power. Romer’s age, some seven years beyond her own, coupled with his dedication to her father made it painfully obvious that was his hope.

“That’ll be lovely,” she said, nodding and smiling at him, “You can go and see your mother and younger sister, yes?”

He blinked, floundering somewhat, “I’m flattered you remember my family.”

She could kick herself, “Of course, family is important so, I hope you get to spend all your time with them and I,” she rocked on her heels finally stepping down the hall, “should go and see mine. Thank you again, Mr. Fernow.”

He stood, struck still, but still waved back at her, “Of course.”

She turned, calmly continuing her walk down the hall. It was the closest Romer had ever gotten to actually proposing a date. She wondered if it was because she was rapidly approaching polite society's official marriageable age. Or if her father had yet another scheme in the works. At this point, she didn’t feel she could put anything past him. Pressing the door open she was met with her father sitting alone by his desk, a frown deeply set on his face as he scratched at his papers.

“Sit,” he spoke gruffly, continuing his work.

Amelia stalled by the door. Something was wrong. Slowly she approached the chair and watched as he wrote. Occasionally he would look up and meet her eye, sigh, and continue writing. She was unsure of if this was a power play of some kind or if he was simply busy. It ate badly at her nerves but she had tried to hide it.

She hadn’t gone to see Zeke in days. Far beyond when they’d agreed to meet. She’d been so free to get so much done in the internment zone with her father believing her to be in Zeke’s bed and she’d felt so embarrassed by how uncontrolled she’d felt that day that she’d chosen not to see Zeke again. She’d instead, spent practically every night that week sneaking on her armband and passing out papers and supplies. Maybe she’d been too cocky, maybe he’d found that out. Her breath quickened and though she tried to control it her father noticed and looked up at her. His brow setting a dark shadow over his eyes.

“Where have you been the past few nights?” he asked, his voice even but his stare cold and heavy. 

Amelia’s palms sweat. Without knowing what he’d found out answering was dangerous. She swallowed and looking into her lap, hoping he would continue on his own.

“I ask...because I know you haven’t been doing what I asked,” he leaned back, the leather of his chair creaking, “the guards at the door are under special orders from me to let you in. They believe you are going to the library in the back of the barracks, reading about warfare against your mother’s wishes and on mine.”

Amelia blinked up at him, it seemed like a strange lie. A lie she wouldn’t believe if she was in the guard's place.

“I also told them,” he continued, nodding at her as though he’d seen the thought on her face, “you’ve been seeing a soldier in the barracks and to tell me when you come and go so I can be the judge of if you’re sneaking to him instead. Rightly, so they’re meant to believe that’s what you’re doing.”

That made more sense. She was right that first night, her father was trading away her reputation to get what he wanted. She frowned, knowing there was no way to recover from the damage his story would do to her reputation, even if she stopped going to Zeke. Not that she could. Not now that she knew her father was monitoring her.

“So...I’ll ask again. Where have you been?”

Amelia looked up at him, “I’ve just been staying at home. I...after the first night I supposed I just needed a break I didn’t think you’d want to know everything bu-”

“I don’t,” he grimaced, “I can’t imagine what that devil did to make you divert from your mission without telling me but you have to return.”

“He didn’t do anything bad,” she spoke suddenly, unsure why she felt such a strong urge to defend Zeke despite it working against her, “I think...I just didn’t know all that it would entail. I’ve avoided romances as I thought you and Mama would want so I...it was just a surprise to me.”

Her father blustered and stood, looking at the window behind his chair. At least talk of sex was always guaranteed to throw him off. For now, she was sure eventually he’d grow accustomed and she’d have to find something else to divert him with. “I’m sorry Amelia, truly, I am. But I expect you to return. Tonight. And just know I...understand if you can’t bear it every night. Truly, but...don’t let so long pass between your trips and this will all be over much sooner. It will be better that way.”

Amelia stood nodding, “Yes, Father. I will. You’re right.”

He nodded, awkwardly lingering. For a moment she thought he would hold his arms out, expecting a hug but then he shifted and inexplicably knocked his knuckles on his desk, “Good...good. You’re dismissed.”

She nodded, turned on her heel, and walked from the room. Suddenly aware of how retched she found the idea of hugging her father and wondering how long she felt that way.

⚯⚯⚯

Other than Amelia’s sudden visit the day passed normally. Honestly, Zeke had never expected the normalcy. He’d thought he would be sent to Paradis, that his life would be constant action for him to work between. Though the war he and the other warriors were sent to win for Marley when he was only seventeen had been brutal it had been short. That was years ago and now spent a large amount of time doing nothing more than pacifying the egos of his higher-ups. 

He was sure seeing Amelia that day would only worsen his distracted brain once he tried to sleep. So he decided to delay it. He pulled a book from his shelf, and still fully dressed save his shoes and long outer coat, sat on his bed. He pressed his back to the wooden headboard and crossed his ankles as he read.

He’d read the book before. He wasn’t allowed a wide variety of reading materials or to own many books but he liked this one it was an interesting read, interesting enough he'd read it multiple times. He was about halfway through the first chapter when his door's heavy lock turned. It swung open slowly, revealing Amelia who stepped in and shut the door behind her. He opened his mouth to speak but she raised a finger, smirking at their role reversal as she walked over to put a record on. 

Once the music filled the room Zeke closed his book, keeping his thumb in his place, a small power play that Amelia’s expression revealed she certainly noticed, “If time passes differently for Marleyans you could have warned me.”

She smiled slowly, “Are you upset with me, Zeke?”

He squinted at her slightly, trying not to smile, “I’m not sure what to think, Amelia. I thought you wanted to come back.”

“I did.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

He huffed, it wasn’t a very useful answer. It was suspicious and he didn’t want her to be suspicious. He wanted her to be believable, wanted these visits to be earnest. 

“I mean,” she said, suddenly boldening enough that she walked forward and sat on his bed by his knees facing him, “I wanted to come. I really enjoyed talking to you. I guess...I just got nervous.”

“And today you’re brave because?”

“Because I saw you today,” she said, her eyes soft and charming, “and you called me ‘Miss Suhr’ without any problem. And ‘Amelia’ just now.”

“Hmm, well I am good at following orders.”

She put her hand over the book, pulling it from his grasp which made him give one short laugh. Then she leaned forward to put it on the nightstand. She paused, her face lingering near his.

“How dare you lean in at me when I’m unhappy with you,” he teased, his eyes glancing between her mouth and her eyes.

She laughed and sat back on the bed. She tried to retract her hand but Zeke turned his fingers over in hers and took hold, lightly enough she could easily pull away if she wanted to. Her face dropped, looking seriously at their intertwined hands, but she didn’t pull back. She squeezed his fingers and looked back up into his face. 

“I’ll come more regularly, I promise, I was just surprised,” she spoke, the tone of her voice even and honest.

“By what?”

“How much,” her face pinkened, her shoulders drew up coyly but not in the false seductive way of her last visit. An honest shyness. “How much I liked speaking with you.”

Zeke felt his heartbeat quicken. It was uncomfortable. It felt childish to have so little control over his body's reaction to her. It was a feeling he thought he would never get to have. “It was nice, wasn’t it? I’m a wonderful conversationalist.”

She jolted with a laugh she suppressed by pushing her free hand over her mouth. Her eyes stayed on his, brightly reflecting the dim light from his bedside lamp, “I thought I had to do a great deal of the work, if I’m being honest.”

“Don’t be honest then. I prefer my version.”

She shook her head, a wide smile spread over her features, “Fine we can both pretend you’re the more interesting person here.”

“Sure, we’ll pretend,” he leaned his head to the side, “I’m the one who can turn into a gigantic ape-like beast, but you’re right that is less interesting than your—how did we phrase it?”

“‘Unmarred beauty’ I think was the wording,” Amelia offered, her fingers now wiggling within his own as she changed her grip.

“Yes,” Zeke said, looking down at her delicate fingers within his own, scarred and rough, “That sounds right.”

She was quiet for a moment, joining him in looking at their intertwined hands. She hummed to herself lightly, then scooted her body further up the bed, now sitting by his hip rather than his knees. She rested his hand in her lap and played with his fingers thoughtfully. 

Zeke stared into her face, her eyes were round and deep-set which made her look doe-like, her nose was small but strongly shaped, her chin came to a soft fine point, and coupled with her strong nose and jaw made it seem like her features were sculpted of marble. Strong but feminine, softened by the smoothness of her skin. Her hazel eyes were focused, studying his hands with a soft expression. She looked up at him and jumped slightly, meeting his stare.

⚯⚯⚯

She had gotten distracted. Though his hands were covered in small scars from training and the injuries he had to visit on himself to transform, they were handsome. His palms were wide and strong, the veins that ran atop his hand from his muscular forearms made her want to trace them. So she had, enjoying the simple contact.

She looked up to tell him as much but his eyes were already set on hers. His steel-colored eyes heavily lidded the way they’d been the last time she visited. Just before he’d stepped toward her. Lust, she managed to think. Her surprise must have registered as something else, because suddenly Zeke laid his head back, gazing at the ceiling, his fingers now wresting against her own in a teasingly rough way. He swallowed and said, “Damn, Amelia,” then he laughed suddenly. Tilting his head back forward toward her.

“What?”

“Oh don’t even,” he said chuckling as she giggled, “I’m not being subtle here.”

“No, you are,” she said, smiling slowly as he gave her a suspicious look, “but your eyes aren’t.”

He huffed, shaking his head at her. He shut his eyes, slowly, “There. Now you don’t know anything.”

“That does seem like the solution,” she teased, enjoying the peaceful appearance of his face. She expected him to open his eyes quickly, but instead, he seemed to rest more. Laying his head back against the headboard and letting a long breath out of his nose. Her eyes wandered from his face, trailing over his collar bone to his chest. Though the buttoned shirt of his uniform hid his figure well she knew below the thick cotton was a body hardened by constant training and service though she didn’t know exactly what it looked like. She found herself wishing to know. Wanting to reach out and discover for herself. She quickly glanced at his face, his eyes were still shut, relaxed with no apparent intention of opening. So she continued to look at him. Her eyes wandered to his lap, he was still in uniform and if the heavy cotton shirt wasn’t betraying much the thick fabric of his green pants revealed nothing about the muscles of his thighs though it seemed to her, admittedly untrained, eye that the fabric was beginning to strain against a growing firmness that made her blush.

Zeke cleared his throat. Amelia’s eyes shot to his own and she jumped to her feet thoroughly embarrassed. Zeke kept hold of her hand though, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

She pressed her free hand to her face, her laugher coming out as puffs of air through her nose as her body shook gently, deeply amused even through her embarrassment. Zeke held her fingers, gently swinging their connected hands, “Does it bother you?”

“That you caught me-”

“That I caught you lustfully appraising me? No.”

“Not how I was going to put it,” Amelia laughed, allowing Zeke to pull her back towards him, the tops of her thighs pressing against the mattress.

“Oh, well, then however you were going to say it was wrong because there are very few ways to stare at the front of someone’s pants.”

Amelia’s blushed deepened causing Zeke to laugh loud enough that he quickly pressed his free hand in a fist to his mouth. His eyes looking up at her in delight. She felt embarrassed, maybe even a little gross for looking at him so blatantly. She’d just been surprised, she hadn’t thought about how he might feel. About how he might also have been struggling to deal with his desire the way she had, the thought was almost dizzying. A heat settled within her. She was suddenly sensitive to the presence of her underwear and she had to resist the urge to squirm under Zeke’s watchful stare.

"No," Zeke continued, "I meant does it bother you to see the effect you have on me. Because, if it does...I'll put in more effort to hide it from you."

She breathed heavily, a chill trailing up her spine, "It doesn't bother me."

Without removing his eyes from hers, Zeke slowly lifted her hand toward his mouth and pressed his lips against the knuckle of her first finger. She hadn’t thought her hands were cold, not until the warmth of his mouth touched them. He lowered her hand, looking at her expectantly. There was a softness in his gaze, a hopeful glint. He wanted her permission, some confirmation that he could continue. She knew she would have hated it if he’d tossed her onto his bed that first day. If they hadn’t talked. If he hadn’t told her silly stories about the trainees, about his crooked finger from a baseball injury, if he hadn’t defended his music collection. It was his patient desire that made her nipples strain against the fabric of her bra, that made her body so warm she practically throbbed for his touch. But this same patience gave just enough time for her brain to pull forth reminders through the fog of her arousal. Reminders of the dictum from her father and the true reason she'd gotten to know him. The displeasure that that memory brought her only had to briefly light on her face for Zeke to lean away.

“Zeke,” Amelia called.

He shook his head, a small regretful look on his face, “It’s okay.”

“I-,” She didn’t know what she could say, there was no good explanation but the truth and she couldn’t tell him that, “I want you.” The admission was embarrassing, she still hardly knew him. What did that make her she wondered, to want someone so badly after only two nights with them.

Zeke smiled, “Oh I know,” he tugged her hand a little, “that much was obvious from the staring. But…” he leaned his head back and took a deep, rather loud, breath through his nose then breathed out, “wanting me and being ready to take me are different, I think. And you keep making a face…”

“A face?”

“Well, honestly, you look a little grossed out and I’m trying to not let that hurt my feelings but it’s happened twice now and I don’t know that my ego can handle that too much more," he set his face with a teasing grin, his other hand reaching for its companion. 

She caught his hand with her own and placed it on her waist, resting her hand on his shoulder as she spoke, “I don’t find you gross. I guess….I’m just worried. I...we still don’t know each other so well and…” she didn’t want to do something she would regret. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Without context it might be hurtful, it might keep him from ever holding her like she so desperately wanted him to.

“I know,” his voice was low, his fingers pressed into her side as his other hand lifted hers to his mouth, this time placing his lips inside her palm. Then he took a gentle hold of the wrist that had lain over his shoulder, placed her hands together like a prayer, and gently pushed her back, his face full of teasing mischief. He stood, awkwardly and found his cigarettes and leaned on the window sill, “Just promise you’ll look me in the eye if all we’re going to do is talk,” he said, giving her a look over the lit match.

She grinned, pulling herself onto the bed and bringing his pillow to her chest, “I’ll shut my eyes if that would help.”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for the same trap I left for you,” he waved out the match. 

She gave a quick incredulous laugh, “You’re a monster.”

“A beast, actually.”

“Stop it!” she laughed harder, suddenly at ease from the smallest jokes and gestures, wishing she didn’t hear the early morning sounds of the world outside.


	4. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is getting harder for Amelia and Zeke, keeping lies straight, staying alert, and resisting each other. At a certain point, something has to give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit consensual sexual content.

Amelia had begun visiting far more often, just as her father asked. To his mind, she visited every night. She wondered what he thought the process was. Maybe he thought she went in, had sex with Zeke, and quickly returned home every night. If that’s what he thought then he must really not see Eldians as humans at all. Or even something close enough to have suspicions or doubts or preferences. Elsewise he must have ridiculous faith in Amelia’s looks. Beyond that, a nightly schedule would be absolutely exhausting. Zeke had to get up at practically sunrise every day. He trained in the morning with all the Eldians, then had meetings in his office, performance reports to fill, he had to occasionally practice as the Beast Titan which, so far, Amelia had avoided seeing. Which she was thankful for because she found the form deeply unsettling even if she knew Zeke was inside, as quick-witted and handsome as she thought he was. 

She wondered about this all as she lay sideways on her bed. Though they were quickly approaching a full month since the first visit now, they hadn’t touched each other much beyond the gentle entanglement of their fingers or hands resting leisurely over clothed skin. A few nights back, Zeke had trailed the back of his finger along her jaw when she’d dozed off during a lull in their conversation, then laughed at how flustered it made her when she startled awake. If he was tortured over her he was far better at hiding it. She’d started waking up in the middle of the night, alarmed by dreams of Zeke somehow climbing into her room asking if she was ready to take him yet. A phrase he’d said so casually but that had run on a loop in her head like one of his records ever since.

She sighed, turning to look at the clock that sat on her dresser. It wasn’t long until dinner now. She had hoped to take a nap before, but she wasn’t able to rest. These days if she wasn’t distracted by the throbbing between her legs, she was distracted by the throbbing in her head. Zeke still requested she come every other day, claiming that one night of sleep every two days was enough, though the bags that were quickly forming under his eyes told another story. She could have told her father as much to appease him and have the guards looking for her less often, but then she would have to sneak out of the house as she once had. A practice that seemed impossible now as Silke grew more nervous and watchful by the day. Instead, she’d told her father she went every night, and on the nights Zeke needed to sleep she beelined to the library, incidentally an idea sparked by her father’s lie, lifted a broken window and shimmied out and on her way to the break in the internment zone wall. The only cost was a small bit of her dignity, as she occasionally had a less than graceful exit through the window, and a little time from her trips since she had to go back through the window and out the guarded door in the morning to keep up the ruse. She felt the time was more than made up for by how often she was able to visit now, though it was getting hard to filch supplies and papers without getting noticed.

It was a taxing plan, her only saving grace was that she could sleep relatively late most days, and often took naps if she had something to do in the morning. But even that wasn’t a good replacement for a night's sleep. For one thing, Silke hated it. She thought something must be wrong with Amelia, so she had taken it upon herself to exit the house more on social calls and shopping trips and insisted on Amelia coming along to cheer her up. And two, it was rather suspicious for her to sleep all day, with how active she’d been before this all began. While her position afforded her certain contacts, even certain freedoms and comforts others didn’t have, it also meant more eyes on her. More people who might notice a crack and pick at it to reveal one of the numerous secrets Amelia found herself managing now. 

The biggest concern that had just occurred to her was why she was trying to place herself in her father’s shoes and think as he did, rather than sleeping like she desperately wanted to. Lying to her father gave her more time in the internment zone, but it also meant he thought she was with Zeke twice as much. If he believed they had sex every night, how much longer until he started expecting her to show signs of pregnancy. Of course, a woman only had a good chance of getting pregnant a few days out of the month, but her father, despite having a child of his own, might not know that. Amelia had learned that from the kind Housekeeper that managed the staff in their home back when she was a young girl crying over bloodied sheets when her body was only just changing and everything was scary and embarrassing. The kindly older woman has sat her down, explaining the process to her, the misconceptions, and concerns. When she was done teaching her what she could she explained few men knew anything about it. Amelia could see her wizened hand waving as she explained that very few cared to know since they didn’t have to struggle with the pain and discomfort.

Now that biological fact would have to be her one saving grace. She’d already allowed Wilhelm to believe Zeke was ravenous to protect her other lies. Something she regretted as it got harder and harder to listen to her father’s cruel judgmental language. She supposed she could claim he wasn’t always interested, but it was possible her father wouldn’t believe her or worse, would tell her to visit less, and then she’d be back to sneaking out of the house.

She sighed, pushing her heels into the bed so she slid on her back until her head and shoulders dropped off the other side, letting her arms flop over so the backs of her hands rested on the floor. She would write all of this down to help her remember but then someone might find it and that would be a much bigger problem. She’d just have to think of a better way to organize her thoughts and keep her head clear since she could no longer rely on sleep to lift the fog in her brain.

“Miss Suhr,” a butler called from the door, “dinner is served if you’ll join your parents in the dining room.”

One large sigh and Amelia rolled herself up, and to the door pulling it open to look into the kind face of the butler, “Thank you for getting me.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding before heading back down the stairs with Amelia trailing after him.

⚯⚯⚯

“-Zeke….Zeke,” Pieck spoke, her eyebrows knitting deeper every time she called to him.

He blinked, seeming to snap back to their world, “Sorry, lost in thought. Is something wrong?”

She laughed gently, a teasing smile on her face, “That’s what I wanted to ask you.”

He sighed, “No, No I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“Well-”

“You aren’t fine, Zeke,” she said, lazily laying her head in her hand, elbow resting by her plate, “Tell him, Colt, you don’t think he’s fine either.”

Zeke raised an eyebrow and turned to Colt who sat beside Pieck, “You think I’m not fine too? Is this an intervention?”

Colt seemed nervous as he often did when he had to talk about something unpleasant or something that made him unhappy. He was a nice person, probably too nice, Zeke thought, for the sort of things the Titans had to do. 

“It’s not. We’re just worried-”

“Oh so it is an intervention,” Zeke cut in, smirking a little. He hoped he could tease and joke his way out of this without too much discussion. Commander Magath had looked up behind them. Staring at Zeke between bites of food. Magath was the one person that never seemed to fully buy his act. He always seemed to hold on to a grain of suspicion, hoping to grow it further. It didn’t matter how hard Zeke pushed himself in training, how well he performed in tests, it never even mattered how well he’d taken a beating. Magath would listen for anything, pick at anything. If he ever found out about Amelia that would be it. 

Pieck was smiling, her eyes lazily focused on him, “Have you just been up working all night? I’ve gone past your window a few times and the lights on really late.”

Zeke’s eye twitched slightly, “Sure, working some. Mostly, I’ve been reading. I’m trying to reread every book I have. Guess I’m just staying up a little too late with it. Maybe I’m getting a little stir crazy. I’ll try and go to bed earlier so I don’t worry you two, that sound all right?” 

Colt looked at Pieck for confirmation, clearly wanting to push it further out of good-natured concern but Pieck just sighed, “All right, I’m glad that’s all that’s been keeping you up.”

Zeke took a sip of his drink to hide his expression. The phrase felt strange but Pieck’s expression rarely betrayed her feelings, unlike Colt who was an unintentional open book. He wasn’t even sure why she’d be outside of his window, her room was in the same building, one floor down and across, she wouldn’t be able to see the light from there. Perhaps she turned in late some nights, but it was strange for it to be often enough to notice and comment on it. He lowered his glass, “Of course, reading and baseball are all I’ve got beyond helping you younger warriors and you’re the only one here now, Pieck.”

She smiled, shutting her eyes and shaking her head.

“Something I can help you with?” Zeke teased.

“You can finish your food and let me and Colt get a word in now and then,” she grinned, “that would help.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, taking a bite of his bread, “Colt, take it away, by all means.”

They laughed and behind the Magath rolled his eyes slightly and turned to General Calvi. The rest of dinner was the normal talk of the day. Pieck mentioned her father had taken ill again and she was going to visit him soon. Colt shared that his little brother Falco was a star sprinter but not yet so balanced at the tender age of three and had recently split his head wide open. Zeke listened, commented, nodded along but the back of his head was a storm of concerns and challenges that became his sole focus once he retired to his room.

⚯⚯⚯

The Suhrs ate in silence like they did most nights towards the end of the meal. None of them ever managed to have enough to say to the others for a conversation to carry through dinner. Often Amelia would report on something interesting she’d done in the day. Then her father would tell something he found funny that happened at the office which Silke normally politely laughed at and Amelia occasionally managed to smile. Then Silke would share about the house, a relative on her side having a baby, an upcoming occasion they needed to send a gift for, or something happening among the staff.

“I was out shopping today,” she said, patting at her mouth with her napkin, “and guess who I ran into!”

Amelia and her father glanced at each other.

“Wilhelm? Amelia? It’s no fun if you don’t actually guess,” Silke admonished. 

“I don’t know, Mama,” Amelia shrugged, “give us a hint.”

“Oh well, I supposed I can, hmm….let’s see, ah, I saw the mother of someone you both know quite well,” she said, smiling proudly at her hint.

Amelia blinked, she couldn’t think of anyone her father and she both knew well. Other than Silke. And it would be weird for her to give a hint about her deceased mother. Wilhelm was focused on his meal, barely even looking up from his plate as Silke glanced between them. 

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” she huffed, “Mrs. Fernow, Officer Romer’s mother.”

“Ah, sure,” Wilhelm offered, nodding into his food.

“Oh,” Amelia said, “I wouldn't say I know Romer well.”

“You wouldn’t?” Silke gave her a knowing smile, “That’s funny because, between you and me, it seems you’ve really made an impression on him. Even his mother talked about you, she asked after you. She told me you made some impressive shot and Romer helped you a week or so ago?”

Amelia raised an eyebrow twinging with annoyance, “helped me did he?”

Wilhelm snorted gruffly into his potatoes, “Helped you hold a gun you didn’t need any more if anything. No one needs to help my girl; crackshot!” 

Amelia forced herself to smile, “Thanks, Father.”

Silke sighed, rolling her eyes at the derailed conversation, “Either way, what do you think of that, Amelia? Has Romer said anything to you or have I let you in on a little secret?”

“He hasn’t said anything to me,” Amelia said, waving her hand as if to brush away the memory of Romer’s thinly veiled attempt at asking her on a date, “And that’s probably for the best he’s older and-”

“Only seven years,” Silke cut in so sharply Amelia stalled. Wilhelm looked up at her frowning, then to Silke whose eyes seemed to quiver. Amelia swallowed, it was a huge misstep on her part, thoughtless even, to express that to her parents. 

“Well,” Wilhelm offered, brushing off his own displeasure much faster than his wife could manage, “Amelia’s a busy girl, active. It’s no surprise he hasn’t caught her to ask. I’m sure Amelia will find a good man to marry while she’s still young. Just maybe not as young as you did, Silke.” Of course, it made sense her father didn’t want her rushing off to get married not as long as he was sending her to Zeke.

Silke’s smile was fast and tense, like someone cutting tightly pulled fabric. She turned back to her food and picked at it. Taking only a couple more bites before she spoke again, “I think I’ll retire, Mrs. Fernow and I made plans to have tea in the morning so I want to get my things ready and set my hair.”

Amelia nodded, “Good night, Mama.”

“Night, Silke, don’t wait up.”

“Hmm, good night,” she said and left the room on quick little steps.

They sat quietly until they could no longer hear Silke’s shoes on the stairs. “Stepped in it that time, kid,” Wilhelm offered plainly.

Amelia sighed, “I noticed.”

“If you take an issue with your mother’s age and mine you don’t have to share,” he said, setting a hard look on her.

“I don’t,” Amelia bit back quickly, “It just isn’t of interest to me. I didn’t say anything about you or her.”

“You know how your mother is. Sensitive. She wouldn’t take a comment like that as anything but an insult,” he shrugged, “and not for nothing, it would help you to not be so curt with Romer.”

“It would help you, you mean, my boyfriend in the barracks, right?” she snapped, standing and tossing her napkin on her empty plate, “excuse me, Father. I’ve got to get to work now. It’s late.”

Wilhelm cringed, “Amelia,” his voice was strong, trying to chastise her, but he didn’t follow her into the hall. She grabbed her coat, Zeke’s key jangling in the pocket, and headed out into the night.

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke had turned his gas lamp lower, paranoid of Pieck’s observations which unfortunately had made it harder to stave off sleep as he waited for Amelia. He shut his eyes, at first, twinging at every footstep, sitting up slightly expecting Amelia’s grinning face and messy braid to appear through his door. Now people walked by and doors opened and closed and he couldn’t be bothered to move. He was barely clinging to alertness. Desperate for sleep despite how much he wanted to see his favorite guest.

He’d just begun to drift off for good when he noticed a small waft of orange and distant ballroom music. The scent of vanilla just beside him. A slight, sensual musky smell floating up from his chest. He cracked an eye open and jolted, the familiar top of Amelia’s head resting against him. She turned her head up, a wide teasing grin on her pink mouth the pressure of her head on his chest making the cheek that touched him look cute and pudgy, “How did you survive a war with so little awareness of your surroundings?”

Zeke hummed, shutting his eyes and wrapping his arms around her, squeezing her in tight enough that she laughed, “Those guys weren’t crawling into my bed to cuddle against me, ya know? It was a lot more alarming than a snuggle.”

“I could snuggle you in an alarming way.”

Zeke snorting, quirking an eyebrow at her, “How is that?”

She rolled over, her head now resting on his bicep as she laid beside him in the bed, “I’ll have to think about it.”

Zeke pushed up onto his elbow, he hovered over her, enjoying the shift in her expression the expectation. The daze that came over her beautiful hazel eyes, “Take all the time you need.” He grinned and then quickly pushed up from the bed, her head bouncing onto the mattress and making her huff at him. He retrieved his cigarettes from his coat pocket and stayed facing toward the wardrobe to give himself a moment to adjust, try and calm down or hide the erection that was beginning to form against his will and better judgment. 

He loved her visits. She was smart and fun to talk to. Curious and bright, uniquely confident in some ways and shockingly shy in others. He was glad he’d caught on to those quick looks of concern or regret or whatever it had been the few times he’d almost reached for her. It had helped him through all of her visits since she’d first noticed his arousal. He knew it was best not to cross that line. Knew how dangerous it would be in normal circumstances and how absolutely disastrous it would be for him in particular in his special circumstances. The only thing that was holding him back now were those small emotions he’s perceived behind her stares. He was a little ashamed of himself, for not stopping this earlier, for never telling her to stay away from him. He couldn’t imagine how disappointed Tom would be if he were alive. Zeke leaned his head back, blowing out the smoke he’d been holding in for too long making him cough. 

“Are you okay?”

Zeke turned, blinking at her, “Why do you ask?”

She snorted slightly, “You just held your breath until you coughed, you’re normally more...suave.”

He smirked, “Suave, you say? Tell me more about me being suave.”

She gave him an admonishing smile, “Zeke.”

He looked at her for a while and sighed, flopping down in his chair, “I just had a bad day, I guess.”

“Me too!” she exclaimed, too excited, she must have thought, by the way she quickly sat back and glanced apologetically at the door.

He smiled, “How so?”

She sighed, heavily enough that her shoulders drooped, “Ugh, I couldn’t sleep. I just...kept thinking. And then I didn’t think,” she widened her eyes briefly for emphasis, “and made a comment about seven years being too many years older than me and my parents did not...take that well.”

Zeke took a tense drag from his cigarette, he was only three years older. Not that her parents knew about him. Someone else then. His jaw tightened unpleasantly. He looked up and saw the regret on her face so he spoke quickly, “That is frustrating. They might be all right with their arrangement, but that doesn’t mean you are. Parents sure have a way of pushing expectations on you, don’t they?”

His comment didn’t relieve her at all, instead, it seemed to make her more concerned. He shut his eyes, of course it did. His parents. 

“Zeke I…” she floundered, “I wasn’t trying to-”

“Neither was I,” he spoke quickly, standing from the chair and coming to sit on the bed with her, “I was talking about your parents, exclusively. Not that it’s not true for Grisha and Dina, but, I’m not so self-centered I have to talk about my life at every moment.” He grinned gently, pulling her hand into his own, “You believe me?”

Slowly she smiled and nodded, “Sure, still I-”

“Mm,” he cut her off quickly, mid-drag on his cigarette, “Please, don’t read into it. My parents were awful and your parents can be bad and, honestly–and I’m not joking–I’d like to know a little more about Mr. Seven-years.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh, don’t.”

“No, no,” he teased, prodding at her side so she rocked on the bed which slowly drew a smile from her, “at least tell me if he’s more handsome than I am.”

“Not even a little bit,” She smiled, leaning toward him. 

It made him feel a little better, though he knew it would be hard to dismiss the thought and he’d probably be haunted by every birth date he saw on paperwork for a while. 

“What about you, you had a bad day as well?”

“I didn’t accidentally insult an entire marriage but,” he said, ignoring her guffaw, “I just got asked if I was all right a lot, I’ve been sleepy and fogged like you were today, I guess, unfortunate when you’re surrounded by lethal weapons.”

She smiled gently, stroking a thumb over his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

“Not much we can do about it,” he sighed, leaning into her touch.

She was quiet for a moment, her thumb drawing on his cheek slower and slower until she stood and stepped away. She stopped just before the window, careful to stay far enough back she wasn’t easily visible from the ground outside. She folded her arms, cradling herself slightly. Zeke breathed in the last of his cigarette, waiting for the bad news.

“We could see each other less,” she finally offered, turning her head toward him slightly but not so much that he could look her in the eye. 

He stayed still, letting her words linger in the air around them as the Marley national anthem played which might have made him laugh in any other situation. His heart raced, he knew it would be better to agree, to see her less until they could part completely. Letting his time talking to her become a happy memory. It would be safer in the long run for them both. It would make his plan easier to execute, and, maybe, it could save her from the pain of his death some ten years off now if the Curse of Ymir was true. Not that they wouldn’t feed him to the next Beast Titan before they had the chance to test that theory. He stood finally, reaching past her to rub his cigarette on the windowsill but not turning to look at her. He leaned back, and stood close behind her, feeling the heat between their bodies even though they didn’t touch, “Is that what you want?”

She was quiet, she shut her eyes and squeezed her arms, pushing her body up, extending her chin. Then she let out a low sigh, her eyes opening as her head arched forward staring down at the ashes he’d left behind, “No,” she turned swiftly and looked him in the eyes, “not at all.”

He reached his hand out, taking a hold of her hip, and pulled her into him, her arms pressing against his chest and gripping at his shirt. His other hand wrapped around her and slid up between her shoulder blades until his hand rested on the back of her neck pulling her mouth against his. He almost stumbled at the sensation, the warmth that flooded into his body as her soft lips parted gently against his own. They stayed like that for a long moment and when they pulled back his hands stayed on her, his forehead resting against hers.

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia was breathless, her body felt tingly and half numb. It felt like she’d fall to the floor if Zeke let her go. She cast her eyes down, focusing on how her hands fumbled with the cloth of his shirt. He was breathing hard, the warm air brushing on her face, his chest falling heavily under her hands. It felt good to know she wasn’t alone in the sensation. She turned her head up to meet his stare, calm and thoughtful, waiting for her, “Why this time?”

“It finally looked like you wanted me to,” he said calmly, pulling his head away slightly so he could see into her eyes.

She nodded, “Please…” her voice was only a breath, barely audible, but Zeke heard her. He held her close again, his mouth pressed to hers, this time firmer, more desperate. His hands spread wide against her body, pulling her as close to him as possible. A small noise escaped her, echoing weakly into their kiss. A moan, she realized. She felt hot, almost dizzy. She ached desperately, pressing herself against him, another soft noise escaping into their kiss as she felt his erection firm against her hip.

He pulled back, breathing hard and pushing his forehead against hers roughly. It made her giggle, the gesture somehow animalistic and boyishly affectionate. They rocked there for a moment, “Amelia…” he gasped.

She moaned gently, “Please...please…”

“You feel so warm,” he sighed, he’s hands surfing up to her shoulders, he stood there continuing to rock them gently until her eyes opened and looked into his. Cloudy grey like the morning after a storm, his glasses messy and skewed in a way that made her smile. She reached up gently, his hands surfing down her arms giving her goosebumps. He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze as she placed her hands on either side of his glasses and pulled back, slowly removing them as he watched her. He released her arms and waited patiently as she folded the glasses and turned, placing them on the window by the pile of ash.

When she turned back he reached for the collar of her dress, “You feel so warm...aren’t you hot?”

She laughed, breathy and short, “very.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips against her neck, making her gasp, “You’ll be cooler without this, you think?” he asked, fingers toying with the top button.

“That makes,” she panted between his kisses, “sense to me.”

Zeke’s hands moved deftly, the small popping sounds of her buttons coming loose filling Amelia’s ears. His mouth moved against her neck, drawing small sighs and moans from her until he reached the last button. He leaned back, looking into her eyes as he tugged the thin fabric off her shoulders, the dress falling in a quiet heap around her feet. “I’ve decided,” he breathed, pressing his mouth to her shoulder blade, “I hate slips.”

She laughed quietly, bringing her hands up to the thin straps and tugging them aside so the slip fell to the floor as well. Zeke blinked at her bra, underwear, and stockings. He sighed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest, “Too much,” he mumbled before pressing his mouth to hers. 

She pushed him back playfully, “You’re still dressed.”

“I’m not wearing sneaky little stockings and bras and eighteen other layers like you are,” he said quickly, leaning in, his mouth chasing hers. She laughed shortly, twisting in a joking attempt at dodging his kisses. Her eyes closed and fingers fumbling forward to his buttons. His large hands overran hers halfway down so she wandered her hands down to his belt, tugging the end free rough enough that Zeke’s hips tilted and he groaned, his eyes darkening at her in a pleasant way. The hungry look he’d given her the first night she came to his room.

“So rough,” he grumbled, his lips falling against hers, “I only have that belt, you know.”

“That’s stupid,” she quipped, pulling the buckle free and leaving the belt hanging loose in the loops.

He huffed in amusement, pulling back enough that he could pull off his shirt without his arms batting against her. Amelia’s eyes dropped to his strong chest, his pecks pulled tightly as he breathed hard, his abs flexing as he pulled off his shirt, she blinked momentarily baffled and looked up into Zeke’s delighted face.

He waited patiently for her to say something, quirking an eyebrow quickly to egg her on.

She snorted softly, “Showboat.”

“I think,” he said, taking hold of her face and gently guiding her back into him, “I get to enjoy some lustful staring, you know now that I’m actually inviting you to look.”

She cut her eyes at him, making him laugh. He leaned in and kissed her, hands gliding palm-flat over her skin and undoing her bra. It went loose, only holding on to her shoulders, barely disguising her chest. The firm points of her nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric. Zeke gently traced his fingers along her shoulders, hooking each strap with a pointer finger and staring at her briefly before slowly pulling the fabric free down her patient arms. He looked into her face for a moment longer before casting his eyes down to her chest, a gentle smirk breaking onto his lips before he looked back up into her face.

She flushed. Surely plenty of people had seen Zeke shirtless, she’d heard he preferred shifting that way, less fuss. But no one had seen her so privately, not in this context at least. Zeke seemed to know this instinctively, he leaned into her slowly, pressing his mouth to her neck, then her shoulder, the top of her chest. He stopped breathing deeply, “your perfume.”

“Hmm?” she asked, her fingers tangling expectantly in his hair.

“Your perfume,” he looked up into her eyes, “You leave the smell of your perfume all over my room when you visit,” he leaned down, pressing his lips to the top of her breast quickly, “it drives me crazy.”

She paused, twirling a piece of his platinum hair between her fingers, “In a good way?”

He kissed her nipple, making her gasp and clutch at his hair quickly, letting go when he hissed and shot a warning look up at her, “painfully good,” his hot breath over her chest in the cold air of his room made her shiver. He kissed her chest again, his tongue gently gliding over her nipple leaving it cold when he leaned to the other side and repeating the pattern. He kneeled in front of her, looking up into her face. She blushed deeply, her hands suddenly failing to find a place to land. He smiled, placing them on his shoulders, “for balance.”

“Balance?”

“I’m going to take off these stockings of yours,” he said calmly, looking up at her for approval, “because they’re in the way.”

She laughed, petting his hair.

His fingers moved along the band of her right stocking, “Don’t snatch my hair again, it hurt, and not in a fun way.” 

He smirked up at her, fingers slipping inside the band. He rolled it down gently, she realized he was being careful not to put a run in them. Stocking had been hard to come by in the last war. His concentration made her smile. He placed one hand on the back of her calf, lifting her leg off the floor slightly so he could pull the rolled fabric free of her foot. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to her inner thigh, just above her knee, he kissed higher, hands wandering up to the back of her thighs and pulling her closer. She tugged his hair, making him flinch and pout up at her, “Ow, I said.”

She smiled, “I have another stocking.”

He feigned innocence, looking at her bare leg before pretending to catch a glimpse of her other leg out of the corner of his eye, “Oh!” he exclaimed, “I see.”

She laughed, smoothing his hair again. He put his hands around her leg, just above her ankle, and ghosted them up, his light touches feeling even lighter with the thin nylon between them. One hand stopped at the top of her stocking but the other ran further up, rubbing at her inner thigh, his knuckles brushing against her through the cloth of her underwear. She gasped, her back arching in instinct. Zeke smirked, letting his hand slide back to the band of her stocking and rolling it down as though nothing had happened.

When he lifted her leg again he looked up at her, laughing at her pouty embarrassed expression, “Mmm. Revenge for the hair, probably better for you than the hair yanking was for me,” he mumbled against her inner thigh, again, just above her knee. 

She quickly laced her fingers in his hair and Zeke jolted looking up at her with a quick flash of fear, she smirked, “Oh...did you...think I was going to wrench your pretty blond hairs again?”

He tutted at her, “We’re surprisingly wicked for someone who’s practically dripping from having their stockings removed.”

She blinked down at him, shocked, her face reddening worse. His smirk widened, fingers finding their way into the band of her underwear. Despite his teasing, he waited patiently. This time she shook her head no. He stood up instantly, his hands sliding onto her forearms, “Are you okay?”

“Your pants,” she smiled, gazing into his face astounded by his attentiveness, her heart wrenching in her chest, “I just want us to be a little more even, is all.”

He smiled again, letting her take hold of the sides of his pants and tug the heavy fabric until they dropped, much louder than the sensual flutter of her dress, so much so Zeke gave a quick laugh, taking her face in his hands and kissing her. Amelia pulled from the kiss looking at the firm press of his erection in his white boxers. She reached for him slowly, a sigh escaping Zeke’s mouth before she even touched him. She gently brushed her fingers against it. She tilted her head curiously, it was warm, firm but surprisingly malleable. She was afraid of hurting him so she kept her touches light, listening to the small groans that echoed in the back of Zeke’s throat. She noticed a wet spot gathering where the tip pressed against the fabric, hinting at the redness of the skin beneath. She raised an eyebrow and smirked, looking up at him as she trailed her finger around the tip and the wet place in a circle.

He groaned, “I didn’t say I wasn’t wet, to be fair,” he reached around her, grabbing hold of the backs of her thighs and pulling her into him. They rubbed against each other through the layers of cloth and she gasped, her mouth falling open against his shoulder, drool falling suddenly down his chest. She awkwardly tried to wipe it away, wipe her mouth, wanting to apologize. Before she could, one of his hands slipped up, capturing her jaw, “It’s fine,” he said shortly before pressing his lips to hers. 

Slowly his hand lowered, ghosting over her breast and teasing lightly at her nipple before meeting his other hand at the band of her underwear, he brushed his nose on hers. Calmly waiting for her permission which came in the form of her hands tangling in his hair and pulling him into a kiss.

Pulled free, her underwear fell easily to the floor. Zeke’s hands wandering up to the sides of her neck, “Please,” he panted, “say that you want me. I just want to hear it.”

Amelia grinned, hands holding on to his, “I want you so bad I need you.”

He smiled at her, his eyes heavy. Happiness she hadn’t seen on his face before, amid the lustful actions and his teasing she realized he was content and he looked so beautiful with that peaceful expression. He walked forward, hands on her hips gently guiding her back and when her legs hit the bed his arms went around her slowly lowering her down. She scooted her body to the middle, laughing at the awkwardness and the smile that played on Zeke’s face as he watched her arrange herself.

He pulled his boxers down and paused, bent over, grinning at her expectant stare as his chest blocked him from her view. 

“Oh stop it,” she rolled her eyes.

He laughed and stood looking at her and then glancing at her body. Nervous, she realized, for the first time, or at least, the first time she’d noticed. She reached out, touching the warm flesh and it twitched in her hand, she flinched away, “Oh!”

He laughed, large and warm, “That’s normal.”

“No, I assure you it’s very weird.”

“Thank you,” he said, crawling onto the bed beside her, “I love hearing that as you first see me naked.”

She laughed harder, rubbing his shoulder with one hand, the other holding his face delicately. 

He shook his head, looking into her face, “You twitched when I touched you too, remember?” His free hand slipped between her legs, fingers gently rubbing against her making her twitch and moan, mouth open and staring up at him, “mmm...see that’s far more of a reaction that I gave,” he mumbled, leaning in to kiss her neck. She sighed, his fingers still providing much-needed friction. Wetness dripping from her body and onto his hand. His fingers moved against her, finding their way between the folds. He looked down studying her face.

“I’ve never,” she gasped, “I’ve never been with anyone…”

He smiled slowly, “Neither have I,” her surprised blink made him laugh, “I’ve just thought about it a lot. I’ve thought about you a lot.”

She blushed, another moan escaping her mouth as his fingers suddenly found her clit in their exploration.

“That feels good, hmm?” Zeke hummed, pressing his thumb against it and gently rubbing as she shook beneath him. He groaned, “You’re so wet, Amelia.”

His mouth fell on hers, his tongue finding its way inside. He pulled his thumb from her and let his fingers continue to wander finding her entranced and slowly pressing one finger inside. She pressed her head back, lifting her neck off the mattress. When she lowered and looked at him Zeke’s eyes were wide and hungry. 

She panted, “Weren’t you listening to me?”

He tilted his head, confused, his fingers stopping in brief concern.

“I said I want you so bad I need you,” her hand ran down the flexed muscles of his stomach and took hold of his shaft making his mouth drop open, a groan coming from deep in his chest.

He shoved an arm under her back, hand running up to hold on to the back of her neck pressed between the mattress and her body, and pushed her leg to the side with his knee. His free hand holding his shaft as he guided the tip up against her. He waited, chest heaving until her eyes looked up into his, “Zeke.”

He pressed his mouth to hers once more before pulling away, looking into her eyes as he pushed himself inside her. His face twitched, and he trembled. His eyes shut briefly as he hissed, sliding further into her. His now free hand glided down the back of her thigh and pressed into the soft flesh there, lifting her leg. She groaned. Biting her lip, afraid she’d cry out and alert someone. 

He smiled, seeming to realize, “You’re right, we probably can’t scream for each other too loud, hmm?”

She chuckled, “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“We’ll have to settle,” he said, moving against her suddenly making her head loll back again, “for gasping desperately then.”

“I seemed to be good at that,” she huffed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder when he bucked against her.

Zeke tugged her leg higher, sliding deeper into her and moaning, a high desperate moan that made Amelia’s entire body tingle. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers gripping into his back just below his shoulder blades. When he pressed into her again she gasped and dug her nails in making him hiss once more, “Why are you so determined to hurt me?” he laughed gently against her neck, his hips meeting hers again, “I thought I,” he panted and his hips slapped against hers again, “was making you feel good.”

“You are!” She laughed, breathless, the weight of his muscular body and the motion of his thrusts making it hard for her to breath in the most deliriously pleasurable way, “I don’t mean to do it.”

He pressed his mouth to hers so harshly it almost hurt, he thrust into her deeper than before and she gasped, wrapping her arms around him to avoid digging in her nails. Her legs twitched, spreading out wide making Zeke moan and press his face into her shoulder desperately. His free hand suddenly slamming down on the bed by her head, fingers gripping at the sheets. 

Amelia’s hands slid from his back to his face, pulling him in to kiss her again, “Zeke please, please,” she panted, her mouth hanging open slightly, eyebrows furrowed in desperation. There was an unbearable pressure. It was so close to being released and every moment that it wasn’t it became more intense until it was aching and consuming all of her senses. Zeke pressed the full weight of his hips to hers, the pressure of his trusts now rubbing against her clit. She clapped a hand over her mouth, crying out. Zeke looked into her face, the hand under her body gripped at the back of her neck, cradling the base of her head. He continued, looking into her eyes even as his own occasionally lidded heavily, wanting to squeeze shut. She rocked her hips with him, squeezing her legs around him, drawing him as close as she could. Her hand slid from her mouth and clung to the pillow under her head. Her other hand trailed over his flexed arm loosely, occasionally dropping to grab the sheet. 

Suddenly she gasped, her head leaning forward from the pillow, her eyebrows furrowed even deeper than before. A low groan escaped her still open mouth and her body shook under him, her legs especially as all of her muscles pulsed for only a moment before she dropped her head back, her legs stretching out on the bed. She looked at him tired and half focused. 

She was panting, poorly coordinated hands trailing over any skin she could find. Zeke groaned his thrusts becoming deep and off tempo, his hips twitched and he hissed, pulling from her suddenly and shaking. His eyes squeezed tight and jaw clenched. He panted suddenly, a low sensual sigh, and shook again, as something warm splattered over her stomach, again as he hissed, and once more as his head lolled to the side a deep long satisfied groan dropping from his mouth. His eyes slowly opened to meet hers.

They stayed like that for a moment staring at each other, both out of breath and sweaty. The arm Zeke had been supporting himself on the whole time trembled, “Ah...shit.” he groaned, and dropped beside her, gently pulling his arm free and rubbing it with his other hand. He laughed slightly and smiled at her, “didn’t realize it was sore until right now.”

She smiled at him gently, and pushed up onto her elbows, staring at the pools of creamy white liquid splattered on her skin. Of course. He would have to be stupid to risk finishing inside of her. It made sense that he knew what would happen if he did, he was a smart man after all. She couldn’t believe this hadn’t been accounted for. Worse she was disgusted with herself for even thinking of that now when Zeke had been so tender.

Zeke sat up and looked over her shoulder, concern pulling into his voice, “I’m sorry,” he offered, kissing her shoulder, “I should have warned you or tried to...aim,” he blinked, then smiled at her sheepishly, “it was all I could do to pull away from you.”

She twisted slightly, placing a hand on his cheek and guiding him into a kiss, “It’s okay, I’ve just never...it feels-”

Zeke hopped up from the bed into the bathroom. Emerging with a towel, he smiled at her, and ignored her reach, gently cleansing her skin with the cold damp towel. He tossed it back toward the bathroom when he was done and stared into her face.

She slowly broke into a smile, “What are you waiting for?”

He laughed, leaning in suddenly so she fell back on the bed, wrapped in his arms, “What do we even talk about now?”

She hummed, “nothing,” and wrapped her arms around him.

He sighed, pulling back to look into her eyes, “you’re okay?’

“Very much beyond okay,” she laughed, “my legs are cramping horribly though.”

“Oh tell me about it,” he sighed, dropping his head against her shoulder, “I’m genuinely in pain now. Especially these weird scratches I have all over. Somehow.”

A laugh bubbled up in her and burst out, Zeke quickly joining her, his arms squeezing tightly around her. Slowly their laughter pattered out to chuckles, then giggles, and then happy sighs. Zeke moved up, dropping beside her, one arm lying above her head on the pillow and the other roaming lazily over her stomach, chest, and thighs occasionally causing her to twinge with a tickling sensation, smacking his hand away if he persisted. 

“Amelia,” he breathed tiredly, nuzzling his nose against the shell of her ear and finally bringing his hand to rest on the far side of her hip.

She hummed in response, her eyes closed peacefully.

“Stay until the last possible moment you can?”

She scoffed, “I don’t have a choice, my legs feel like nothing.”

His eyes opened, a frown on his face.

“Mm..and I want to, of course,” she teased.

He shut his eyes, shaking his head at her before softly pushing his lips against her shoulder. Then his breath evened out, asleep. Leaving her alone with her thoughts.


	5. Different In the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after is very different for Amelia and Zeke and puts a harsh light on the reality of their situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: Mild sexual content, swearing and abusive language, descriptions of physical violence

Zeke woke up in the dark to a strange sound he didn’t recognize off-hand. He also felt desperately cold. Bleary-eyed and confused he sat up on his elbows and blinked in the blue-hued early light that illuminated his room. He realized the strange noise was the gentle pop of Amelia’s stocking securing back on her thigh. She was fully dressed, save for her shoes and her woolen coat. She hadn’t noticed that he’d woken up so he sat still for a while watching her mulling about. He glanced at his record player and back at his lamp realizing she’d turned them both off at some point. She opened his wardrobe and made a displeased noise at her dress, which was more than likely littered with wrinkles from laying on the floor. She tried to smooth it, tried pulling it taut to help. It didn’t look like much was working. Then she seemed to notice her hair, the intentionally unkempt braid now a ratty mess from her head rubbing vigorously against his pillow. He couldn’t help but let a small proud smirk slide onto his lips. She turned with a mildly annoyed look on her face and jumped, her hand flying out and grabbing the wardrobe door, in surprise when they made eye contact. She sighed, her hand over her chest, “How long have you been awake?”

“Not very,” whispered back, standing and walking to his dresser to pull out new boxers. He glanced back at her as she smirked and raised an eyebrow, “It’s cold.”

She chuckled gently and pulled his cardigan from the wardrobe walking over with it held out. He smiled and slid his arms in as she guided the cardigan onto his shoulder. Then she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face to his back. He smiled and shut his eyes briefly, enjoyed the warmth. Enjoying her presence. Happy that he had woken up before she vanished from his room. He gently pulled her hands off, keeping hold of one as he turned to her, “When do you have to leave?”

“Right now,” she answered, looking out into the ever-paleing sky outside. He nodded but stayed as he was, holding her hand in his own, “Zeke?”

He smiled, “Yes?”

“I’ve got to go…” she blinked, her head tilting in confusion revealing a small pink mark he left on her neck.

He raised his finger touching it gently, “you’ve got a-”

She frowned, pulling from him to return to the mirror and look, “Well...at least that’s not so bad. I can cover that.”

Now it was his turn to come up behind her. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, resting there for a moment, until she turned and looked up at him, “I really do have to go.”

“So you said.” She tilted her head again, confused and maybe a little annoyed. He grinned, “I’m not stopping you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed more, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to me?”

“I will.”

She stared at him, mouth pulling into a comical frown. She folded her arms over her chest.

“Oh. You want me to start it. See I thought you would sa-”

Then she laughed, pushing at his bare chest under his cardigan. He grinned, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards him, kissing her innocently. He pulled back and looked at her. The annoyed expressions having completely melted into a soft half-lidded stare, “I..,” she started, a small blush on her face, “It was really nice, Zeke.”

He nodded in agreement, pulling her in to kiss her again, deeper this time her body arching back as he leaned over her, when he pulled back he kept his voice hushed, “You’ll come back the night after next still, right?” 

She pulled at his cardigan, making him return to the kiss, his arms slipping around her. He sighed into the kiss, hand sliding playfully down the back of her dress to grab her. She leaned her head to the side their kiss deepening as she did. He felt the familiar headrush, his hips instinctively pressing against hers more firmly as he began to harden. She pulled away slightly, looking up at him pressing her palm against him through his boxers, “Ah, please don’t do this to me,” he sighed, though he kept his arms around her and leaned into her touch.

Her hand stopped, but she didn’t take it away and Zeke had to fight the urge to move against her, “Do what?”

He looked at her flatly making her laugh. She pulled her hand away, “Don’t worry,” she commented pulling him in to quickly kiss him before turning and slipping on her coat, “you aren’t alone.”

“That,” he sighed, falling back roughly on the bed, “only makes it worse.”

She turned, grinning at him, “We’ll see each other again soon.”

“Yeah but who’s to say you won’t come to your senses?” he tried to say it as a joke. It was meant to be one but as soon as he said it he regretted it. He didn’t look at her, but he could tell she was staring at him. She stood stark still in front of the door.

“Zeke…”

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, “I was just joking don’t-”

But she’d already come over standing just before him, tugging gently at the sleeves of his cardigan until he wrapped his arms around her waist, her own hanging over his shoulders, she looked like she was going to say something for a moment. Verbally dismiss his concern, confess some feeling to him but instead, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his forehead with a gentle firmness, and then she stayed there. He pressed his palms to her lower back, holding her. Enjoying the comforting silence of her touch. 

There was a loud thump next door, a soldier putting on their boots. She leaned back and stared at the wall, “Amelia, you should go.”

She nodded to him, concern furrowing her eyebrows.

“Be careful, I’ll see you soon,” he spoke in tones just above a whisper as he followed her to the door. She opened it, giving him a small smile before slipping out into the hall. He watched her recede, her small feet moving quick and light over the wood, and then she disappeared down the stairs without looking back.

⚯⚯⚯

The walk home had been a blur. Once she made it out of the barracks safely she’d walked through the familiar streets feeling changed. She knew, logically, no one knew anything. Save, maybe the guard who’d shut his eyes and sighed as she walked past him causing her to lift her coat and let her braid drop behind the collar once she was out of his sight. But that didn’t matter. Let every soldier of Marley think she was a whore for all she cared. She didn’t want them anyway and it would make her life easier if they all thought her too poorly reputed to make their wife. 

Though she knew she should rush home she stopped by the bakery that she normally rushed past and bought herself a sweet bun and a few other little sweets and breads. It didn’t add too much time onto her trip, but it was just enough that she could hear her mother speaking loudly in the parlor just beyond the main stairs. 

When she came in her eyes locked with Abelard’s. The butler’s eye briefly widened and he gestures for her to quickly climb the stairs. She paused only long enough to slip her shoes off and quickly followed after him.

“Miss Suhr,” he spoke, his old voice so soft and weak as he whispered that she could barely hear him, “you’re getting in later than usual.”

“You knew I was leaving?”

“I’m the butler, Miss Suhr,” he gave her a small smile, “I know everything.” He opened the door for her, nodding his head at her politely. “If it pleases you, Miss Suhr, I’ll inform the Madame that I’ve just been up to wake you and you’re taken with a headache. It should buy you some time to sleep.”

Amelia blinked, surprised. Abelard had always been kind but private. He did his job but kept his distance. Where she’d befriended maids and cooks or looked to nursemaids and housekeepers as surrogate mothers, Abelard had always been just the butler. Good at his job, but so good her refused to break the traditional polite distance. “Thank you,” was all she could manage to say.

Abelard nodded, turning on his heel. 

Before he got too far Amelia called out, “Wait!” 

He turned back, his eyebrows furrowed in concern and maybe a little perturbed at how her voice echoed in the staircase. Amelia wandered toward him pulling a danish from the bag of baked goods, “It would also please me if you took this.”

He looked at it for a moment before gently taking the treat, his fingers cautiously avoiding hers. He took a bite and gave her a smile, kind and warm, the kind of smile she wished to see on a grandfather’s face, “Very kind of you to tip the help, Miss Suhr.” And then he headed down the stairs, finishing the danish on the way.

She quickly retreated to her room, locking the door behind her. How odd. Not only for him to help her but to take a treat and tease her. It was so many things outside of his established personality that it would normally make her worry. But she was still so giddy it had struck her a little stupid. She sighed, a pleasant tightness in her chest that almost made her burst out giggling. It was all so foreign to her. So deliriously pleasant that it was allowing her, making her, forget about things she should worry over. She knew she would have to soon. After she slept maybe she could mull over Abelard’s surprising choice, over how Zeke must feel, over if the soldier's displeasure with her appearance would cause a ripple with her father. But for now. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to bask in the tightness of her heart when she thought about Zeke and the pleasant sore places left on her body from their night together. She sighed and dropped onto her bed, barely climbing into the sheets before she fell asleep.

⚯⚯⚯

Maybe he’d slept three hours? Something like that, he figured. Better than a normal night that Amelia came around at least. All the tension that had built in his body by their little touches and her uncertain glances over the past month had finally been relieved last night. Unfortunately, he now also knew what she looked like. Instead of being stuck imagining what might hide under the thin fabrics of her dresses as he ate breakfast his subconscious now occasionally drew up an image of Amelia’s face, contorted in pleasure beneath him. A distraction that was less than ideal as he sat in his meeting.

“The new Eldian recruits are doing a horrible job,” Commander Magath complained, “I think they’re unmotivated. They know it’s unlikely that they’ll have the opportunity to become a Titan given we just assigned them three years ago. Knowing this they’re barely putting in the work to the drills, at this rate they’ll all be mowed down in seconds in the next war.”

“Well,” Commander Suhr spoke, drawing everyone’s eye. He was the Commander of the Public Security Authorities, he didn’t typically have much to say about the Warrior Program or other external military plans, “we can’t know for sure all of the Titans will hold them for the full thirteen years possible. It could be they do poorly, make a mistake, commit a crime, or get crippled.” He’d stared at Zeke the whole time, but Zeke knew better than to hold his gaze. He’d caught too many beatings as a kid for looking into officer's eyes. Instead, he stared at the table just before him. 

“What are you trying to say, Suhr?” Magath barked, unlike Zeke, Magath could, and often did, express his contempt for Commander Suhr.

“I’m saying that if the Eldian brats believe they can outperform a current Warrior and win the Titan out from under them they’ll work harder. They all will. Only the Warriors need to work as a team, all the rest should compete. See each other as enemies. It’s a strategy the PSA has perfected that the Warrior Program seems to sorely lack,” once again Suhr’s eyes set heavy on Zeke.

Thankfully he’d made a dig at Magath who would never take it lying down, “Do you think you could manage a bunch of armed devils better than I can? Crowding a bunch of unarmed bastards is a whole hell of a lot easier than-”

“Magath. Suhr,” General Calvi finally spoke, frowning between them, “Please, this is an official meeting save the swearing and screaming for a bar.”

Both the men swallowed, glancing at each other to gauge how admonished they should look, both muttering apologies and sirs to the General who stared at Zeke, “Do you think that would motivate them, Zeke?”

“I think Commander Suhr’s suggestion of competition couldn’t be harmful. Commander Magath’s structure to teach and motivate through specific training programs is effective, in my personal experience, but I’m sure feeling as though you wouldn’t be able to be honored with a Titan would lower the morale of the less dedicated,” he sighed, all these years, more than half his life now and still he hated feeding them whatever they wanted to hear, even if it was ridiculously easy for him now, “I wonder if it might also be an opportunity to cull the group.”

“What do you mean?”

“Commander Suhr and Commander Magath both have good points. Some Eldians probably are wrongly motivated. They wish to be Honorary Marleyan citizens, that’s their drive for being in the program, not that they want to serve Marley. I think Commander Suhr’s motivational suggestion would certainly increase their efforts, but I also think Commander Magath could be granted the ability to eject poor performers from service,” Zeke explained, looking into the General chest rather than his eyes.

“Ah, I see, it would mark their family if they underperformed, bring them under suspicion of not being truly grateful for everything Marley has provided them with,” the General spoke, nodding as he thought out loud. He was missing a part of Zeke’s thought process. It would keep them from having to spend their lives running drills with deadly weapons. Stop them from having to crawl through mud under the barbed wire before they had their adult teeth. Save them from the horrors of war altogether, potentially. “We’ll do that then. Thank you for your suggestion, Commander Suhr,” General Calvi nodded, standing.

“Of course, sir,” Commander Suhr said, standing quickly and saluting the general. Magath did the same, though his eyes were set hatefully on Suhr. Zeke stood last, saluting the three of them. 

“We’ll call this meeting to an end then, back to work,” Calvi called over his shoulder.

As soon as he cleared the door Magath shot Suhr a look, “You have a clever plan for my program again, you bring it to me first, Suhr.”

Commander Suhr looked at Magath cooly, the shape was all wrong and nothing else about his appearance had carried over but the hazel shine of his eyes was the same as Amelia’s. A painful visceral reminder that he really was her father. “Sorry, Magath. Slipped my mind.”

Magath cursed under his breath and stormed out, sure to give the young cadets absolute hell. Zeke tried to head out but just as his hand reached for the door Suhr spoke, “Zeke, we’re going to talk for a moment, to my office.”

⚯⚯⚯

It was midday by the time Amelia woke again. She sighed, rolling to her back in her bed. She realized now she smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and sweat, she smelled strongly of Zeke. She took a deep breath, relaxing into the sensation for a moment trying not to shame herself for how much she enjoyed it.

Then she hopped up and rushed into the bathroom. Every piece of clothing she removed reminded her of Zeke doing the same last night. She found numerous small marks on her skin, tiny pale bruises where his fingers had bared into her skin, or where his mouth had lingered too long. She realized though he’d complained about her tugging his hair and accidentally scratching him, he’d never be left with a mark. Titans healed practically instantly, especially from tiny fingernails dragging over their skin. At least her marks wouldn’t be visible in many places once she was fully dressed though she’d have to tell Zeke to be more cautious of his placement next time. 

She flushed, realizing she was already thinking of next time. He must be too, she thought, given their brief moment that morning. Then her mind offered from some cold and doubtful place, that without her body there to distract him he’d come to his senses. The way he’d mentioned to her. It made her lip tremble. 

She shook her head. Drawing water into the bath. Sighing as she gathered her clothes for the day, she wished she’d been brave enough to ask him. But what could she ask? If he loved her? It had only been a month that would be ridiculous. She didn’t even want to think that that was the reason her organs seemed to twist and squeeze at the sight of him. It was too soon. She was telling too many lies. And most importantly he was loyal to Marley. 

She stopped, standing by the bath. That was it. She couldn’t forget that even if he was Eldian, same as the people she met in the ghetto, skin taught from hunger and hands hard from work, he’d chosen Marley over them. It hurt. An ache deep in her stomach, a knife twisting in her gut. What would Hila think if she knew that her good friend Esther wasn’t only a Marleyan woman lying about her name but one who’d gleefully fallen into the bed of an Eldian traitor?

She sniffled, settling into the bath and lathering a cloth. She dragged it over her skin, erasing whatever was left from Zeke there. She couldn’t just stop seeing him now, her father demanded it and that allowed her to see Hila and the others in the network more. She could just only go through the library, never actually see him but, eventually, her father would expect a child to be born. 

She washed her stomach, the same place Zeke had apologetically cleansed hours ago. She felt like a complete idiot for not considering him pulling back. Of course, he wouldn’t want to risk getting her pregnant, given his position he wouldn’t want to run such a risk with anyone but especially someone like her. His position however also meant he wouldn’t be able to access any actual preventive measure, his only option would be to pull his body from hers in time. He’d already mentioned it was difficult so a mistake wasn’t out of the realm of possibility but Amelia felt terrible even thinking about it. She’d felt awful when her father’s plan had occurred to her as she’d stared at the liquid on her abdomen. It hadn’t been the reason she’d leaned into his kiss. In fact, at that moment it hadn’t occurred to her at all. From the moment they kissed until he pulled away and groan desperately above her she’d only thought of how much she wanted him.

She laid her head against the tub. It was hard to believe that she didn’t have a single opinion of him a month ago. Now she felt like she had far too many. He was her target, her victim, her enemy, her friend, and her lover all at once so many things it was painful to think. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to fall into him, she hadn’t thought. She’d relied on her feelings alone. Let the desperate aching need between her legs guide her actions over her own good sense.

The water went cold while Amelia thought. She stood, draining the bath and desperately untangling her hair. She didn’t know how it had even become such a mess but it took what felt like forget to return it to normal. She dressed and tapped makeup on the few marks that could still be seen on her skin. Then she headed down to the house below.

“Oh! Amelia!” her mother called, somehow still frighteningly keen on the sounds of Amelia’s steps.

“Yes, Mama,” Amelia shouted back.

“Come, come we have a guest,” Amelia sighed but turned and headed to the parlor. Her mother sat delicately on the edge of one couch and across from her, Mrs. Fernow and Romer, sitting lovingly close to his mother in his dress uniform. 

⚯⚯⚯

Commander Suhr’s desk was covered in papers. He seemed unbothered by the mess as he sat in his chair. Staring expectantly at Zeke. It was an old trick. One he hadn’t fallen for since Magath had lashed him so badly he was left standing for a week when he was nine. Suhr smirked, apparently realizing Zeke was politely declining the bate.

“Zeke. Do you think I’m stupid?”

His heart dropped. Amelia. If he knew it was all over. If Commander Suhr had somehow found out about Amelia, he’d be fed to one of the underperforming children they’d just met about and it would all be over. He would have thrown his life’s mission away for one night in her arms. Some long damaged part of him wondered if she’d turned him in. He hated himself for the thought even if it wasn’t a baseless guess. If nothing else it would be a poetic end, maybe his parents, even as their titan forms far across the sea, would feel vindicated.

“Do you?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir. I am sure, I don’t think you are stupid.”

“Hmm.”

Then he was quiet, he looked at some papers in front of him. Wrote something, his signature it appeared. Zeke wanted to ask, find out what this was all about but anything he could think to say might be twisted into an insult so he stayed quiet.

“You seemed to think you could improve on my idea, back there,” Suhr looked up at him, eyes sharp and hateful.

“I didn’t mean to, sir. I must have not thought clearly enough to realize it seemed that way. I only wanted to make your plan clear to Commander Magath, sir,” Zeke’s body was rigid in attention. Desperately trying to avoid giving Suhr anything to take issue with.

“Ah. So you don’t think you’re smarter than me. You think you’re smarter than Magath,” Suhr’s voice rose.

“No, sir.”

“So you think I’m wrong. A creature like you thinks they can understand our language better than I can?”

Zeke clenched his jaw. He knew this pattern. There was no getting out of it now. He’d just have to hope Suhr was too old to hurt him badly and too proud to ask for help. The Commander stood, coming around his desk surprisingly swiftly. He drew his hand back and slammed it against the side of Zeke’s face so hard that his service ring split his mouth open, Zeke’s head turning sharply to the side. He didn’t make a sound. 

“Look at me, devil,” Suhr, said, somehow strangely out of breath. 

Zeke turned his head toward him. Careful to keep his eyes down at Suhr’s chin. Careful to turn his head slowly, too fast and it would be taken as contempt. All this he’d learned from the numerous other beatings he’d caught at the hands of overly proud Marleyan officials. 

“Look me in the eye,” Suhr demanded strangely.

Slowly, Zeke’s eyes scanned up to Suhr’s own, his head staying low. He felt a pang in his heart looking into eyes the same shade as Amelia’s but so full of hate for him. It was pure, painful, almost laughable irony that her father was beating him the day after he’d given himself to her completely. He almost pitied the old Commander for not knowing. He could beat him beyond the point of death for a normal man. He’d never be able to erase him from Amelia’s history now or steal her from his.

Suhr’s hand came down hard in the same place. Blood now trickling from the side of Zeke’s mouth. “Look at me,” he demanded again. And Zeke did only to have his head turned violently once more.

“You’ve got strong eyes, I’ve always thought so, too strong. You’ve gotten too cocky. Too proud of yourself. You’re forgetting you’re scum we allow to live,” Suhr walked to his closet. Zeke shut his eyes briefly. Without being told he dropped his coat off his shoulders and undid his shirt, letting it stay tucked into his pants, hanging loose around his hips and leaving his back exposed. He kneeled, bracing his fists against his thighs. It wasn’t his first beating, it probably wouldn’t be his last, it certainly wouldn’t be his worst, given how Commander Suhr was already panting from exertion and rage. Even if he called for help, it seemed Zeke’s mission wasn’t lost and neither was Amelia. 

The Commander picked up his baton, a standard part of a PSA officer’s uniform, stocky and wooden. It would hurt, a more solid, damaging weapon than the cutting lashes of a whip. He brought it down hard on Zeke’s back and he rocked forward, his jaw clenched tight. He wouldn’t yell. It was the only thing he had left, the only way he could resist. Suhr struck him again. And again, And again.

⚯⚯⚯

The dress uniform really felt like too much. So much excess that Amelia focused on it as she sipped her tea. She glanced at the clock, it had already been two hours but nothing had changed. Their conversation was mindless, she wasn’t learning anything new about them or from them. It wasn’t particularly funny, or riveting. Even though she was involved it was like overhearing an older couple at a cafe. 

“No, I did,” Romer laughed, “I went up after and told Commander Suhr he should consider bending the rules and making Amelia an officer. I’ve seen her shoot before but I’ve never seen her miss.” He was grinning at her.

“It’s an honor to have a father that teaches me so well,” Amelia said calmly, pretending to fuss with her drink to avoid looking at him.

Silke sighed, “Yes, sadly I was too unwell after Amelia to safely bear another child so Wilhelm, bless him, decided Amelia would be his daughter and his son, isn’t that so, Amelia?”

Amelia sipped her tea, allowing a slurping sound her mother’s eyes flashed at, Mrs. Fernow looking equally displeased, “It must have been the son that learned to sip their tea,” she joked, Romer’s head snapping around to her.

“Mother,” he chided, looking apologetically at Amelia who continued to ignore him.

“I have to say I’m not a fan of the phrasing,” Amelia said, placing her tea on the table, a sign she was very much done with their gathering, “I am a woman fortunate enough to play rougher games and use guns to test my skill and steadiness. I don’t think that makes me a man. I don’t think I had to learn to dance in order to become a woman either.”

The room was quiet for a long moment, the ticking of the clock making it painfully clear about how much time they were allowing to pass before anyone spoke again. “I think it’s impressive,” Romer suddenly spoke, nodding to her, “and...of course I certainly think of you as a woman.”

“You don’t have to,” Amelia smiled, waiting a moment before adding, “you can think of me as an officer, as you said.”

And he laughed, his mother joining though much less sincerely. Silke managed an amused smile but her eyes were hard set on Amelia, clearly trying to discipline her. Silke was familiar enough with Amelia to understand the comment for what it was. A harsh rebuttal of Romer’s attempted flattery. 

The door swung open out in the hall and they all sat straight. “Ah, that must be Wilhelm now,” Silke said, “In here!”

Wilhelm walked dutifully into the room, Romer launching to his feet in salute, a gesture Wilhelm seemed unconcerned with, “At ease, officer.”

Romer nodded with a robotic sharpness and returned to his seat.

“Are you well, dear?” Silke asked.

“Why yes,” Mrs. Fernow added, “You look quite flushed.”

He laughed, a joyless huff he tried to disguise as good-natured, “Yes, it seems I’m not as young as I once was. I had to give a beating today and it feels almost as though it took more out of me than the creature I flogged.”

She twitched, it was grotesque enough to beat someone but the way he could speak so casually. Call another human a creature. In all her years she was yet to adjust to it in the slightest.

“Who was it this time, Commander?” Romer asked, calmly sipping his tea.

Her father set his eyes on her, serious and pleased. As though he was sharing some secret with her. Conspiratorial, like they were plotting a birthday gift for her mother. She felt her heart pounding before he even spoke, “That Zeke Yeager.”

“Ha! I could see why. I’ve never liked him. Everyone acts as though he’s a model to aspire to; a loyal Eldian. I say there is no such thing. A devil is a devil is a devil,” Romer said, nodding to the women he sat with.

“Exactly! I’ve never understood how Wilhelm can even bear to be near them,” Silke added, seemingly overjoyed by Romer’s hate.

“Beasts. Worse than dogs,” Mrs. Fernow spat acting as though even mentioning them changed the flavor of her tea.

Amelia could barely think to keep up with the conversation. She’d told her father to not let anything on to Zeke and he’d gone and beaten him. He wasn’t only evil and cruel but an unadulterated idiot. Even if she knew he could heal her heart squeezed at the thought of him suffering as she drank tea across town. Then she suddenly realized everyone was looking at her expectantly.

“I’m...sorry I don’t have much of a stomach for such talk, it’s...too upsetting,” she said quietly. It was the best she could muster, some measure of the truth.

Romer’s hand suddenly covered the hand she held her teacup with on her lap, “Am- Miss Suhr I’m always blown away by your compassion. To even have some left for those monsters it’s truly- You’re beyond kind, but it does make me worry for you when you visit. I hope you know that’s why I always stay nearby. I couldn’t stand to let those Eldians abuse your kindness.”

She didn’t know what to say. She hated him. She hated all of them. 

“Thank you,” she managed, barely able to stop herself from spitting it out.

It was quiet for a moment longer. Clearly, everyone expected her to have more to say to Romer. Some effervescent gratitude for his unsolicited protection. She said nothing. 

“Well, would you both like to join us for dinner, then?” Wilhelm offered, and the Fernows accepted happily.

Amelia avoided speaking as much as she could during dinner. Once they were done they retired back to the parlor and Amelia claimed her headache from earlier had returned. She told them she didn’t want to ruin the night with her pain and asked to retire. Though Silke looked as though she could wring Amelia by the neck, she allowed it. 

She thought briefly about returning to her room. Waiting for the night to grow longer and the Fernows to leave. But the thought of taking any more time for herself was too much. She grabbed her coat from the closet and rushed into the streets of Liberio unsure if she’d even gone unnoticed leaving the house.

She walked quickly, her breath shaking badly. She realized she was crying, the water making the cold bite against her face more painfully than usual. Then she began to run, faster and faster to the gates of the base. The air pricked her lungs, it agitated the once romantic soreness between her legs to a more painful twinge. Exertion her body wasn’t yet ready for again, but she didn’t care. She quickly headed into the building, only the slightest caution as she climbed the steps and unlocked Zeke’s door, shutting it behind her. 

⚯⚯⚯

It was dark in his room but the silhouette cast by the hallway light was unmistakably Amelia’s. Zeke had retired early, skipped dinner as a whole to sleep. Give his body more energy to heal the burst blood vessels and cracked bones from the Commanders beating. She stood for a moment, breathing hard against his door. 

“So time,” Zeke mumbled, keeping his voice soft and low in his otherwise silent room, “really does pass differently for Marleyans, huh?”

She sobbed, suddenly. Her hands pressing desperately to her mouth to try and stifle it. She walked forward, sitting on the bed by him, her tear-soaked faced finally visible in the moonlight, “He told me what he did today when he came home and I’m so sorry,” she managed to say before she choked again, now cradling her whole face in her hands.

It felt terrible that it made him happy. He hated for her to cry so sorely for him, especially over a beating that was far from his first. But it made him happy because it squashed the tiny lingering fear that she was involved. Her tears were too ugly to be anything but honest, the sobs echoing in her chest too painful to be put on.

He reached out, despite the twinge in his ribs, the grating of bone on bone, and rested his arms around her as best he could, “shh...really. Someone will hear.”

She sniffed, “I’m sorry.”

“For the beating or the crying?” He joked because it helped distract him. It made it easier to be with others and hide his truest beliefs and concerns. Even Amelia, who’d found her way deeper into his life than anyone else had in a long time.

“Zeke, please…” she coughed, a strange crying laugh.

He smiled slightly, “I’m sorry. I’ll try and temper the jokes if you can temper your crying. I’m doing okay. I’ll be fine by morning.”

She sat up suddenly, propped on her knee on the bed before him, she held the side of his face opposite to where her father’s ring had cut his mouth open. She leaned in and set her lips against his, thoughtfully delicate. Then she rested her forehead on his, “Can I stay with you until then?”

“You’re already here, it would be a shame to waste your time,” he said, smiling when she closed her eyes in annoyance. She slipped out of her shoes and her coat. Then she paused, and unbuttoned her dress, walking to his wardrobe and hanging it. She looked at him calmly, removing her bra from under his slip and sliding off her stockings which made his heart race expectantly even though he was in no condition to recreate her last visit.

Then she climbed into the bed beside him, laying on her back, her arms held to him in offering. He smiled, humming gently as he laid down in her arms, his undamaged cheek resting on her chest and his battered back only touched by the sheets and the gentle caresses of Amelia’s tear-stained fingers as he fell asleep.


	6. Things Nearly Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another heated moment with Zeke floods Amelia with regret for her lies but her work as Esther provides a much-needed but dangerous distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: This chapter contains explicit consensual sexual content and alcohol use.

His head must have slipped down in his sleep because when he woke up Zeke was at her side, his forehead pressed against her ribs, one arm still gently resting over his shoulder. He was still laying half on top of her, one arm tucked under him and the other draped over her hips. A leg was draped over hers, weaving their limbs together. He’d pulled the cover from her upper body when he slid down, the cold leaving goosebumps over her pale shoulders and leaving her nipples perked under the thin silk of her slip. He leaned his head back, looking up at her face. The cold had yet to bother her, her eyes were closed peacefully and her chest rose and fell in a slow steady rhythm. 

He smiled, glad to see her so peaceful after she’d cried so terribly, the stains from her tears still visible on her cheeks. He slowly shifted, lifting himself so he could see her better. She had freckles, he remembered, back when he first saw her, when they were only children. He realized now she still did, in small measure, very pale freckles that were only sprinkled on her nose and cheekbones. So pale you wouldn’t see them without staring at her face. Her mouth was pinker, probably from the cold, the outer corner so strongly pointed they almost looked sharp. Even with her lips peacefully parted it made her mouth look strong, as though she had the will to say whatever she wanted. He grinned slightly, it suited her well. He got distracted looking at her jawline, her lithe neck, her collar bone pooled with moonlight. 

The pain had left his body as he slept. He shifted and he could feel the previously parted bones in his back had fused together again. The sheet tugging across his skin didn’t sting either. He’d healed like new as he had hundreds of times before but faster than he expected and he wondered if it had to do with her presence. Marley long believed the healing ability possessed by the Titan Shifters was entwined with their desire to live. He wanted to live, of course, he had a job to do but maybe with her presence he wanted to live for something beyond necessity. For something selfish for the first time. The thought was surprising and made him feel a little ashamed. So little time had passed and he’d allowed her to become such an intimate and dangerous part of his life. He should pull away, reject her for his safety, but as much as he thought that he couldn’t deny the greater part of himself that stared at her. Peacefully asleep in his bed, the body he’d so eagerly explored the night before barely veiled from him now.

He knew he should let her sleep. But he found himself glancing at the window. It was still dark. He leaned toward her, his nose brushing against her collar bone, she hummed in her sleep but didn’t wake. He opened his mouth, letting his breath cascade over her skin warming it suddenly and sending a shiver through her. Still, she didn’t wake up, or if she did, she pretended to sleep. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her silk cloaked nipple. That was the final straw, she breathed in deeply through her nose, an eye-opening sleepily to peek at him, “mmm...Zeke.”

“Yes?” he asked, resting his chin on her sternum.

“Why’d you wake me up?”

“Well, I woke up.”

Her laugh was weak and breathy, heavy with sleep. Her eyes barely focusing on him, “That doesn’t feel like a good reason to wake me.”

“You can’t see how beautiful you look right now, trust me I had no other choice,” he spoke softly, leaning his head forward, pressing a firm kiss where he’d laid his chin.

She smiled, the hand that she had draped over him rubbing absent-minded circles on his back, “Thank you but-”

He shifted suddenly, hovering over her; face to face. Her eyes opened slightly wider, more awake, and she raised an eyebrow. He leaned in, slowing down as he got closer and enjoying how it made a smile break on her lips. Then he kissed her, moving so his body pressed on top of her own, his hips laying between her legs. He could feel the heat radiating off her. He groaned into their kiss. Pulling back to smile down at her.

She moved her hands, holding his face, “Zeke-”

“Mmmm,” he leaned in again, kissing her as she laughed. Her tone had sounded like she was trying to be sensible. She thought they should sleep, that they should rest. She was probably right but he wanted to ignore good sense for a moment longer, “I want you.”

She flushed, her pupils dilating suddenly, “Don’t you have me right now?”

“Yes,” he smiled, arms sliding under her body to support his weight and hold her close, “and yet…” he lowered himself, kissing her shoulder. 

She laughed gently, playing with his hair, “Can I tell you something?”

He leaned back, looking in her eye, “of course.”

She blushed slightly, her chin leaning down to her chest so her eyes were downcast even though she was looking at him, “I’m a little sore after the last, I mean, it felt good! Even the soreness feels–but...I don’t-”

He flushed, a strange mixture of shame and pride, “Was I too rough or-”

She laughed, a quick embarrassed puffy laugh as she had the night before, “Not at all. Nothing was uncomfortable at all then, only after. I think it’s just because-”

“It was the first,” his statement lingered in the air. They stared at each other, slowly smiling. “Did you know how I felt?”

She blinked, “When you were-”

“Ha! No I mean,” he smiled, laying his head against her shoulder so she couldn’t look in his eyes, “did you know that I had...an...interest. In you. Before you ever even came to my room?”

She pushed up onto her elbows, giving him no escape from her stare, she looked surprised, “Really?”

He paused, staring up at her. He couldn’t believe he’d blurted it out. He didn’t mean to, “Yes. It was never anything serious really. I didn’t...I wasn’t cutting your photo out of the newspaper and pasting it in my diary or anything,” her laugh gave him enough relief that he could smile, “but when you would visit the kids...I always came over not to shoo you away but to be nearby. You were just very kind to them...and you are...you’re very beautiful…” he words tapered off. 

He looked at her, waiting for a response, suddenly afraid of rejection despite already being in her arms, “Will you,” she finally spoke, “be upset if I admit I didn’t feel the same?”

He laughed, pressing his face against her neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. He squeezed his arms tighter around her before lifting his face again, “No...not upset. Just mortally wounded. My pride, that is.”

She smiled, fingers gently tracing his jaw, “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

He leaned into her touch, a quizzical expression on his face.

“All those years and I never noticed how handsome you are until I came to your room and you sat,” she pointed to the chair by the window, “and smoked and I could barely contain myself. At least your’s was an innocent attraction.”

“Hmm. I don’t remember describing it as such.”

She grinned, shaking her head at him. Her touches slowed, her eyelids becoming heavy in that familiar expectant way, he leaned down and kissed her, her arms sliding around his neck. Then he shifted, kissing her collar, and gently outlining the neck of her slip with small kisses. He looked up at her, holding her gaze as he gently brushed his nose against her nipple, enjoying the slight gasp he drew. Then he slipped further, pressing a kiss to her stomach through the soft cloth. 

“Zeke,” she mumbled, her thighs pressing together slightly in embarrassment.

He hummed back to her, leaving her clothing alone but outlining the hem of her underwear through her slip with another series of small kisses. “Let me see if I can relieve some of your soreness,” he smiled, kissing her thigh. 

She flushed, he didn’t want to push her, he didn’t want his touches to be something she shied from ever again as she had all those weeks before. So he contented himself with kissing the skin that was already exposed, pressing half-innocent kisses along her hips, waiting for her to be comfortable and allow him to progress. She shuddered, and slowly she lifted her hips from the bed, allowing him to pull her underwear free. She lifted a knee, helping him free one leg and gently tug the fabric down along the other leg and completely off her body. She sighed as his hands caressed her thighs and gasped when his lips followed suit. He took his time, enjoying how she squirmed, her body desperately trying to tempt him on to his final destination. 

He slipped his arms under her thighs, locking his arms around them making her legs bend at the knee. He could feel her feet against his sides, her fingers tangling dangerously in his hair. He kissed her, a simple gesture but one so well placed that she gasped and, as he somewhat expected, snatched his hair. He leaned his head back, eyes shut, and lingered there for a moment. When he opened him she was giving him an apologetic look. 

“I really don’t mea-”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, “here. Let’s see if we can avoid it, hmm?”

He left her thighs draped over his shoulders but took her hands with his own, pressing his fingers between hers, “Now you can grasp all you want without balding me,” he smirked. 

She blustered, clearly about to respond so he leaned in and pressed his tongue flat against her, drawing it up toward the familiar bud that had made her shake beneath him the night before. Her fingers squeezed his, without looking he could tell she’d curled forward lifting her shoulders from the bed, a moan desperately falling from her lips. He pressed his mouth to her harder, enjoying how much she gasped, even more, uncontrollable than she had the night before. The taste of her on his tongue egged him on. His arousal urged him to press his face closer, kissing her fervently, his nose rubbing against her and making her writhe, her thighs squeezing the sides of his head gently. Her body moved so much from his touches that he released her hands, despite his better judgment, and locked his arms around her thighs, holding her close to him. Amelia was groaning and crying out above him and he realized she was covering her mouth with one hand, trying to keep her moans from waking the barracks. Her other hand gripping the sheets or her thigh in desperation, moving between the two seemingly unsure of where it should land. He realized she was probably struggling to avoid grabbing his hair. 

Her desperation made him wild, mouth moving against her rapidly until she trembled, thighs gripping him tightly and holding him against her as she shook below him, her lower back curling away from the bed. Then with a deep breath, she released her grip on him, her body slowly melting back down. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, slowly trailing kisses back up her body and pressing his face against her neck. 

She turned her head, nudging her chin against him until he pulled back to look at her, “I don’t think I can believe you’ve never been with anyone.”

He huffed, “Oh?”

“It doesn’t make any sense that you c-”

“It does,” he leaned him, pressing a kiss on her lips that she tried to dodge, then laughing as he spoke, “I’m a quick study. And for your part,” he kissed her jaw, “you’ve very clear abou-” he interrupted himself with a moan. Amelia’s hand gently pressing against his erection. 

“Please,” she whispered, “let me.”

He sighed, unable to speak but helping her free him from his boxers, her hand moved cautiously against him, her grip gentle but he still flinched at the excess of friction. She stared at him, sliding her hand between her legs making him groan in expectation. Her hand returned to him and moved with a steady pace. The arm he supported himself on above he shook, he placed the other on the side of her head, holding himself above her and staring into her gaze, her eyes watching every small movement of his face. A small proud smirk on her mouth as he groaned above her. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, distracting her movements. His hips moving against her hand desperately. He felt a familiar tightening and twisted his hips bucking against her loosened grip as he finished against her thigh. He fell by her, breathing hard until he started to laugh, she smiled but looked at him confused. 

“And you think I don’t make any sense,” he smiled, pulling her into an embrace. 

She laughed, nuzzling her nose against his, “Maybe we’re just a good pair.”

He paused. A seriousness setting in, that made them look each other in the eye. They laid there like that, strangely exposed and unclean from their passion, holding each, neither flinching to look away.

“I’m scared,” Amelia finally admitted, lifting a weight from Zeke’s chest. There was some safety in the shared feeling. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, holding her jaw in his hand and pulling her to a kiss, “so am I.”

She covered the hand that held her jaw with her own, squeezing it lightly before pushing it from her. She sat up, careful to pull the silk of her slip away from the mess on her skin, she swallowed hard, “I feel guilty.”

He stared up at her, and slowly sat up, his hands reaching to hold her face again, her own covering his, “Don’t.”

“How could I not every time I come here. Every time I let this happen,” she swallowed hard and he realized she was dangerously approaching tears, “You could die.”

His eyebrows knit together. She wasn’t wrong. He wouldn’t lie and say it would be fine. Deep down he still harbored some concern about her reason for appearing to him. He still felt guilty, some small sickness at his own weakness. His inability to turn away from her kind embrace. But all of those feelings were fading fast. As much as he truly wished he could tell her she was right. He couldn’t. He realized, in a sudden flash as he looked at her anguished expression, that her existence in his life was a piece of freedom he thought he would never have. He cast aside the expectations of the army, of Tom, of his family, and even of himself in some ways. He chose to take the risk because it made him feel alive, it was a balm on old wounds he thought he would always carry. It made him feel human.

“Amelia,” he sighed finally, his thumbs rubbing on her cheeks gently, “you aren’t wrong and in some ways...I’m glad you recognize that. We do have to be careful. It is dangerous. If that is too much to ask of you I understand but,” he swallowed, a lump forming in his throat, “I’ll always welcome you back. I’m willing to accept the risk. As stupid as it is on my part. So please, don’t think this is your burden to bear. You didn’t do this to me. We chose this together.”

A tear dripped down her cheek. She sniffed, and her eyes looked pained. As though she wanted to say something else. But she swallowed and then pressed her forehead to his shoulder, arms wrapping around her. 

“Hmm?” he asked, gently rubbing a hand on her back as he held her.

She pulled back, her eyes still holding a sadness he couldn’t fully understand but knew not to ask about, at least not yet, “Together.”

He smiled, kissing her quickly before righting himself in his boxers and going to find a towel for her. He kneeled on the bed, calmly wiping her thigh before looking at her. She had a small embarrassed smile on her face, “I ruined the moment, didn’t I?”

He snorted lightly, “I could have basked in the afterglow a little longer before you started crying, sure.”

She threw her head back, laughing silently, a wide smile on her face. She rubbed at her eye and where the tear had left a fresh trail on her cheek, joined the others from earlier in the night. 

“No really it’s all right but next time maybe...ten minutes?” he teased, “At least let me catch my breath again before you start sobbing.”

“Zeke!” her mouth dropped in shock, but the corner trying desperately to pull into a smile.

He laughed, butting his forehead to hers, “Is that too much to ask?”

She pressed her lips together so hard they trembled a little trying not to smile, one corner slowly curling, “No, it’s not.”

He grinned and kissed her. Then tackled her back onto his bed and held her there until the sky once again began to lighten and she had to leave him once more.

⚯⚯⚯

Esther’s coat was much thinner than Amelia’s real coat. Even with it tied tightly around her waist the wind that whipped up the alley bit through her skin. She crawled through the fence and lifted her hands to her face. Blowing on them to try and warm herself.

She hadn’t slept again once she’d left Zeke, she was too distracted by her shame she’d bathed and then laid on her bed fretfully until dinner. Then she’d snuck off to the barracks, dropped through the window, and made her way into the internment zone where she now walked.

It was so easy to fall into him. To let the world outside his cramped room melt away and let herself focus completely on the pleasure of his touch. The humor of his jokes. This time she hadn’t even been able to stave off the shame until she got home. It had hit her in waves as they laid together almost making her tell him the truth, throwing everything she’d work and suffered for to the wind. But her suffering was nothing compared to his. Her father must have beaten Zeke savagely to leave the marks she’d seen behind. If Zeke held any suspicions he hid them well, and if he didn’t have any that only made the guilt more biting. She’d have to talk to her father soon. Lie and say it made Zeke withdraw from her, tell him that whatever satisfaction he got from taking revenge on Zeke’s strong back wasn’t worth it.

Better yet, maybe she should save Zeke the danger. Maybe he was like her, and when presented with the chance to hold his lover couldn’t give it up, like his cigarettes. An addiction that would kill him one day if the circumstances of his life weren't going to take him first. She kept her head cast low as she walked, catching her reflection in a muddy puddle. For the first time in her life, the sight of her own face made her sick. Maybe if she just lusted for his body against hers or if he’d been cruel and harsh with her it wouldn’t feel so terrible. If she was really sacrificing herself as her father put it, just for a far more noble cause than he expected but that wasn’t the case. Zeke was hungry and wild in some ways but every touch was thoughtfully placed. He seemed dedicated to learning about her, to make every time he held her better than the last. When she told him about her family he cared, he asked questions and made playful jokes. She was falling in love with him as much as she wished that wasn't the case. Bound by her lies and tangled in the knowledge that when he knew the truth he would hurt and he may even hate her. She wanted his dedication to Marley to be her out, if he served an evil cause it was okay for her to abuse his trust and take advantage of him to free the people he betrayed but she was starting to feel that wasn’t the truth. Every now and then he would slip, he’d make a loose comment about Marley that made it clear he wasn’t the weak pawn he made himself out to be. That was all speculation on her part though, he never slipped up for long before he brushed the comment away, making a joke or changing the conversation. It would make sense, even if he were secretly against Marley, as far as he knew she wasn’t. 

She knocked on Hila’s door by instinct surprising herself, she blinked at her hand.

Hila opened the door and quirked an eyebrow at her, “Esther? What is it?’ She leaned out, glancing into the street.

“Ah, nothing,” Amelia shook her head, “Just distracted.”

“Well come on it,” Hila nodded, checking the street again as Amelia stepped inside. Hila couldn’t afford to heat her house with anything other than a small furnace that sat in the corner, the exhaust pipe filtering out a poorly cut hole in the wall, stuffed with papers to try to make up for the poor fit. Her younger children slept on blankets on the floor, curled up by the fire. In their sleep, they were smiling clearly dreaming peacefully. 

“They waited up for you as long as they could, Zev is pretty cross,” Hila smiled.

“Oh is he?” Amelia cooed, looking over her shoulder at Hila. In her house, Hila didn’t cover her hair and it hung over a shoulder long and wavy and a deep warm brown. Despite the hard work she’d done since she was a young girl, Hila had a very youthful expression her age only betrayed by the wrinkles around her eyes and the deep lines on the side of her mouth. 

She frowned and then rolled her eyes, smiling, “Fine, fine go ahead.”

Amelia grinned, giving the small boy a little shake. She waited, watching how he squirmed unhappily in his sleep, and shook him again, “Zevy.”

He grumbled, his small body twisting in her hands, and then one large brown eye opened, “Esther!” he screamed, his eyes snapping open and flinging out to her. He wrapped his small arms around her, barely able to reach around her neck. He squeezed her tightly and she laughed, pulling him into her and rocking side to side.

“You’ve been gone so long!” he pulled back resting his hands on her shoulders and trying to give her an admonishing stare that failed to shame her since she found it so cute.

“Yes, I know,” she smiled, petting the tired head of his older sister who shifted toward her leg, resting her forehead against Amelia’s knee, “I’ve been very busy.”

“Mommy says you’re being silly and too dangerous,” Zev spoke suddenly making Amelia turn and raise an eyebrow at Hila.

“Oh does Mommy say that?” Amelia said.

“I’m not wrong, but thank you Zev,” Hila sighed, “Come on everyone’s here.”

Amelia nodded, squeezing Zev once more before laying him back down, “Go back to sleep, okay?”

“But you just got here,” he complained, trying to sit up and grab her again. Sheba’s hand reached out looping over Zev’s shoulders and yanking him into a cuddle, he squirmed against her but Sheba had three years and numerous pounds on him and it was easy for her to wrestle him down without even opening her eyes. Amelia chuckled and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Zev’s forehead and then Sheba’s. Then she stood and followed Hila down to the basement. 

Though the house above them was cold the basement, with its dirt floor and walls, was freezing. The room clouded with the breath from the handful of Eldians sitting in mix-match chairs or leaning on the walls. 

“Esther,” Gatian smiled, coming over to her and clutching her arm in greeting. His other wrapping around his wife, “Hila and I were beginning to worry about you.”

Amelia smiled, Gatian was a tall man to the point of awkwardness, his limbs always seemed like they were confused about what they were meant to do. His fair colored hair was shorn to his head close enough that the long scar on the side of his head was always visible, keloid-ed skin that no longer had hair follicles. He’d told her once he wore it short not because the scar was beautiful, but because it was important. Covering it with hair would hide the mark of Marleyan abused and he refused to excuse them from its sight. Despite his hard-set noble ideas, he was always friendly and warm, a great part of while most of his neighborhood trusted him and came to these meetings. 

“No need to ever bother yourself with me,” she smiled, “it’s an easy life to clean an officer's house. Other than the crown molding,” she winked at him, “that’s a bitch.”

He laughed but Hila shook her head, “You joke too much. It’s obvious you’re in danger. You’ve been bringing too many papers.”

“She has,” a young man named Adir stepped forward, “but I’m hoping she’d brought more today and she can be safe tomorrow.”

Amelia nodded, shrugging the bag from her shoulder and putting it on the small table that sat under the light, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, she unzipped it, “Papers, Adir,” she handed to him and heard him sigh with relief, clutching them in his hands and backing away, “Medicine, more credit notes, sweets for little ones, flour,” she grinned and pulled out a bottle of liquor, shaking it slightly at Gatian.

“And meeting water!” he laughed, gathering mismatched cups and setting them on the table, blowing on them to remove the dust.

“Oh honestly,” Hila rolled her eyes. It was an old joke. On the rare occasions that they shared drinks at the meeting, she would always get nervous. She thought it would make them too confident, clouding their judgment. She truthfully hated any liquor in their house so, instead of calling it what it was, Gatian had started calling it meeting water.

Amelia poured it, small sips in each glass, “Don’t worry, Hila. Just enough to keep us warm. I promise.”

Her older son, Yacob a bright and overly-brave teen, came to stand beside her reaching for a cup, “Esther’s responsible, she wouldn’t get us drunk.”

Hila popped his hand hard and Amelia failed to hide her snort, making the poor boy blush badly as he rubbed his hand. He was only thirteen, he had to fight hard to be allowed in the meetings and this was only his fourth one. Since he’d been allowed to join he’d been giving suggestions, clearly hoping to be looked at as an adult especially by her. It was darling, but Amelia tried to feign as if she didn’t notice she didn’t want to hurt the boy’s feelings by infantilizing him. 

“You are a child, try again and I’ll send you upstairs to sleep by the fire with the other babies,” Hila chided. 

Amelia glanced at him, pressing her lips together and giving him a teasing look before continuing to pour drinks and picking up her own.

“Gatian,” she nodded to him.

“Thank you,” he smiled, and lifted his drink, “My wife, Esther, and I have talked since our last meeting. We’ve decided it’s the right time. This won’t come without danger. We know that we may not succeed…” he paused, letting the heaviness of the moment take the space it deserved before he continued, “but the Eldian people have suffered too long. We don’t desire anything but escape and with Esther on the inside, we can gather the papers needed to get our people into Marley, we’ll disappear anyone that wants to go. Fade them out of the internment zone, into the countryside outside of Liberio. It won’t be true freedom, you’ll have to hide the truth of yourself. Leave anyone that doesn’t come with you behind. But the freedom and safety you’ll gain as a Marleyan is worth it, no?”

The room stayed quiet for a long time. Then an older man at the back spoke, “And how will get out of Liberio safely?”

“I’ll gather the tickets myself,” Amelia spoke, “we’ll need volunteers. People willing to be the first. We’ll post them in other cities outside of Liberio. They’ll become contacts for other’s escaping.”

“We’re going to build a network,” Hila nodded.

“It’s not without risk as Gatian said-” Amelia began.

“But worth it…” the old man continued. 

The room went quiet again. Yacob puffed up, “Come on. I’d do it if I were old enough. I will,” he looked seriously at Esther, “when I’m older.”

“You won’t,” Hila cut in quickly. “But regardless, we need to think of who is willing and ready. Who would go unnoticed if they left and what we can do to make more people disappear without drawing attention? Esther is our only inside contact to a Marleyan official. If we bungle this and lose her we lose everything.”

“Not to say,” Amelia added, “that you couldn’t replace me but it would delay it. So, Hila’s right, for now, let’s start to think of who belongs where.”

Everyone nodded. Deep in thought about themselves, their lives, and what they would be abandoning if they left.

Gatian looked sympathetically at the stress painted on his friends' faces, “but first, let us drink,” he lifted his glass, “to a life of peace!”

Everyone smiled, put at ease by Gatian’s gentle nature, “to a life of peace!”

Amelia didn’t join them in their call. She smiled and lifted her glass, she drank with them but when she left there her life would be the peace they wanted. Or at least, it would have been if she hadn’t made the mistakes and choices that lead her to that moment. She set the glass down firm, for now, she could forget about her problems as Amelia. At least until she had to vanish into the early morning light and back to the life that had somehow become the more complicated of the two.


	7. Bird in a Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions run high for Amelia and Zeke causing them to say things that might jeopardize their safety and their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: aggressive language and behaviors, descriptions of harm and violence

Porco fell back into the dirt, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut. He laid there for a moment writhing from the shock of the blow, then slowly sat up on his elbow, his other hand braced against his knee, he leaned and spat blood into the dirt. 

He glared up at Zeke, who waited patiently above him, “We don’t all heal in a couple of minutes.”

Zeke felt himself glaring down at him, colder than he wanted to be. Porco had only just come back. He’d been granted a short leave. A grace he received for his brother being given a titan and shipped off or so they told the rest of the Warrior program. In truth, it had far more to do with the beating he’d received at Magath’s hands for bucking against Reiner’s selection and the long time it took for him to recover.

“Then you ought to be trying harder, shouldn’t you?” Zeke raised an eyebrow. Steam rolling from his skin from the heat of his bare chest in the cold winter air. 

Porco growled, throwing himself up from the ground and grappling Zeke’s torso, tackling him back into the dirt. Zeke pressed his palm against the side of Porco’s face pushing his head back and landing a solid punch to his torso. Porco hissed, catching Zeke across the jaw and trying to set on him only for Zeke to punch him again this time square in the nose making him drop back.

Zeke shoved him off, stumbling to his feet. He was sore. He didn’t enjoy this, beating Porco who was still so wounded by being passed over and missing his brother. He only continued because sparring was his only release for his anger. The only way to manage the emotions he couldn’t share with anyone. 

It had been weeks now, longer than the first time. Amelia hadn’t returned to him, to the children, or to her father’s office. He hadn’t even heard her name mentioned. It had been hard to face the first time; when his body ached for her attention. That had been pleasant compared to what he felt now. Now that he knew her even better and more intimately. It hurt deep in his chest, a feeling of betrayal he didn’t think he’d ever suffer again. Worse, this time, because he’d chosen her. He’d allowed himself to grow close, ignored his better judgment, and taken the terrible risk of death all because she’d brought him such unreasonable relief and comfort. More than the pain of not knowing where she was or even how foolish he felt for falling to her so quickly, he suffered because she’d spent two nights writhing in pleasure at his touch, or so he thought, and she still didn’t come back to his arms.

He glanced at Colt, who watched from the side where he and Porco had left their uniform shirts and coats, Zeke’s glasses sitting on top of his neatly folded pile. His eyebrows were knit together deeply, he flinched with every blow landed. He seemed to know something was wrong, that they were no longer simply sparing. Zeke wished, truly though he knew no one would probably believe him, that it didn’t come to this. But his feelings, his hurt had to come out somewhere. So it was here, with Porco who was bleeding badly from his broken nose.

Porco picked his hands back up, as unwilling to lose a fight as he always had been. It’s what made Zeke so pleased to see him back. Porco was the only opponent he could trust to bear his feelings even if he had no clue that’s what was happening.

“Well come on,” he breathed, heavy and ragged. 

Zeke held his fists up, watching Porco carefully. He waited for him to move. For an opening to strike. Even in his anger, he had to act, as best he could, that he was merely training. Porco huffed, shaking his head, annoyed that Zeke rarely stuck first. It wasn’t that he was afraid or unconfident, only that he knew Porco was too hotheaded to wait for long, and in that hotheaded rush, he would make a mistake.

Porco growled, came forward, and jabbed. Zeke moved out of the way, the fist brushing his ear. He stepped in, locked Porco’s shoulder, and, before the younger man could react, punched him in the stomach hard enough to bend him over. He twisted, releasing him, and kick him in the back knocking him to the frozen earth. 

“Seems,” Zeke sighed, feeling marginally better which is all he could ask for these days, “your break really dulled your skills.”

Porco twisted, frowning hard enough that the blood streaming from his nose changed its route down his face. It dripped onto his chest. He wiped at the deep red streaks, spat again, and sniffed hard trying to deter the tears pricking in his eyes from the pain in his face. 

“You won’t get a titan like that,” Zeke shrugged. He hated himself for the comment. He knew it had been Marcel that pushed Porco out of favor and that he’d done it by talking down about the angry young man before him. It had turned him from a proud and severe boy to an angry, embittered young man. A victim of circumstance and other people’s choices like they all were. Someone who didn’t deserve to be provoked just so Zeke could have an excuse to beat him. 

Zeke turned his back. If Porco attacked him now it would be fair recompense for Zeke punching down just so he could use their fight as some unhealthy therapy for his own sore pride.

Porco must have moved to do it because Colt yelled out, “I think that’s enough,” and when Zeke turned back Colt he was standing between them his arms still held out toward Porco who’d stopped just shy of running his chest into Colt’s widespread fingers. Porco’s chest heaved, his breathing aggressively throwing steam from his nose into the bitter winter wind making him look like a raging bull. 

Zeke was jealous. Jealous of how easily Porco expressed himself. How natural honesty came to him, maybe he was romanticizing it because it had never been an option to him. Maybe Porco was in as much of a rage inside as he was out but Zeke felt like if he could, just once, let all of his anger out in a wild dangerous fury he’d finally know peace. He thought of how many nights before when he’d woken still wrapped in Amelia’s arms, how nothing else had mattered in the darkness of his cold bed but her presence. Now that he knew that peace it would be much harder to live without it.

“I’m sorry,” Zeke sighed, walking to Porco unafraid of his anger and placing a hand on his shoulder, “I shouldn’t have done you in so badly, but you know,” he nodded his head to the officer’s building lying easily, “better from me than someone else.”

Porco glanced to the building, trusting Zeke so quickly it hurt him even though telling the lie didn’t, “Yeah…” he grumbled, shrugging from Zeke’s touch and walking to his things.

Zeke caught Colt’s eye, who laughed, “I think I’m good actually. I don’t want to box.”

Zeke smiled weakly and joined Porco redressing, the lack of physical activity suddenly making him aware of the cold.

“What’s gotten into you, man?” Porco glanced at him, pulling his shirt over his head, his voice low, “you’ve been on one since I came back. Did something happen?” 

Zeke huffed in dry amusement then rolled his neck and sighed, “No. Nothing’s happened. Maybe I’m just tired of the bad weather.”

Porco scoffed and shook his head, unsatisfied with Zeke’s answer but clearly aware he wouldn’t get a better one. 

Colt spoke up trying to ease the tension, “Let’s go get something warm to drink before we get to anything else.”

Porco nodded following after him and Zeke lingered for a moment, lighting a cigarette and looking up the wall of the officer’s building to Commander Suhr’s office before heading inside.

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia glanced at herself in the glass door of her father’s office bureau. Even in the translucent reflection, she could see the terrible dark circles under her eyes and the off-color of her skin. Both a result of her lack of sleep and, she was sure, her stress.

Planning with the network hadn’t been going well. The wrong people wanted to go first and for the wrong reasons. It was painfully clear to Amelia that they wanted to get out and run. They wouldn’t actually bear the responsibility of staying, running the risk of being caught and shipped off to Paradis as a titan or, maybe worse, saved for the same purpose in the next war. It was easier for her to be objective about this as a Marleyan, she thought, she could sympathize with them and their reasoning but she didn’t empathize so much that she ignored it the way Gatian was sometimes willing to do. Luckily Hila was hard-minded and willing to make tough calls and she trusted Amelia, Esther, deeply. 

The schism between their beliefs and Gatian’s and the people they rebuked had caused more than one fight. Just last night a man tried to swing on Amelia and was surprisingly met with a keen blow from Yacob who beamed at her with pride when the man fell cold from the precision of Yacob’s fist. Though the man left, sore and angry, it had calmed the nerves of the others and even mended Gatian and Hila’s fighting, both laughing and proud of him. Amelia smiled as she sat in the chair across from her father’s desk. Remembering the warmth of the moment. Their laughter and teasing and how Yacob had blushed and shrunk up when she quickly pecked his cheek in reward.

“Well that’s a rare sight,” her father’s voice bit into her mind, drawing her from her memories, “I haven’t seen you smile in well over a month now.”

“Why did you call on me?” She spat, flinching at her lack of control. Her exhaustion was making her struggle to keep her composure. At every moment she felt like she could scream or cry at the slightest provocation.

His lip snarled like a feral dog, “Try that again, girl.”

She swallowed, “Sorry, father. I’m just...tired. And I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“This,” he gestured at her whole person making her feel like an object, “is why.”

She shook her head, eyes pressed shut her eyebrows furrowing down, “I-I don’t understand. What did I do?”

He sighed, a growl deep in his throat, “You look disgraceful. You’ve gotten more worn looking by the day, discourteous, short, hard to even find, I can’t even remember all the dinners you’ve taken in your room lately-”

“I’m tired!” her voice whined more than she’d like, she leaned at him eyes pleading, “I’m so tired and every time you call on me or mom wants me for some frivolous tea party I grow more tired and-”

“What could that demon be doing to you to wear you down so badly?” he gripped his pen tight in his hand. So strongly that the plastic creaked. His eyes were distant like he was imaging beating him again. Her mind flashed to the black and purple marks she’d seen on Zeke’s body the last time her father got his hands on him. How swollen his lip had been on hers when she’d kissed him.

“You don’t listen!” 

“Amelia lower your voice-”

“No! I won’t!” She stood from her chair, nearly knocking it over. She towered above her father, nostrils flaring as spoke, “You listen. Now and good, father. You beat him for your pride. Not for me. Not because I was hurting or shamed but because you were! When you act against him he grows frightened. He’s not a fool! He’s able to draw a connection between bedding a girl and being pummeled by that same girl’s father,” she took a breath, pointing at him her hand shaking with rage, “you have thrown my name into the gutter among your men, I don’t come here because I see how they look at me now, they look at me like they could slide me a few coins and meet me in a back alley!”

She paused, breathing hard, her chest heaving. Her father stared at her in shock, sitting back in his chair stunned to silence which spurred her to continue. 

“Worse yet…” she caught her breath, trying to calm herself and lowering her voice, “you are asking me to do all this to bear a child which yes, I know, will be Eldian regardless of me but still. It will grow in me and live by me and change me. My body. My life, father. You are not sending a soldier to war…” tears welled in her eyes, “I am your daughter…!”

She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She cried again. As she felt she did all the time now. It made her more angry than sad. Worse yet she yelled at him for things that didn’t truly upset her. She didn’t care about the soldier’s lewd stares, or that the child would be Eldian, or that he’d sent her to Zeke’s bed. Rather, she cared that he felt he had the right to make such a request of her and then to act as though he had any dominion over how she reacted. She cried because he wouldn’t give her any grace for her failing composure and because she needed the grace. She bitterly wished she was stronger and able to shoulder all the burdens she needed to. The only place she thought she’d find refuge was with Zeke and she’d stopped going to him after that morning because she wanted to free him from her lies and ease the regretful ache in her soul.

Wilhelm stood, moving toward her but she raised a hand, turning her face to the side to avoid him, “Listen to me. You cannot hurt him. I don’t care how much you think he deserves it or how much you hate him. If he grows suspicious and rejects me then it is useless.”

She’d thought that would be the end of it but he drew up, frowning at her, “Amelia what do you expect from me. Look at the state that demon has left you in. He’s broken you, my poor delicate thing.”

Thing rang in her ears. She shut her eyes. Her tears stopping she sniffled and swallowed hard, and then as though turning a switch she leaned her head back and opened her eyes, glassed over with contempt, “Is your pride worth more to you than Marley?”

He blinked in shock, “Watch your tongue-”

“Answer me,” she glared, mouth pressing in a firm line. 

Wilhelm stared back at her, “The Fatherland is more important than I am but you are still my one and only daughter, Amelia-”

She stepped quickly, looming up into her father’s face, closer to him than she’d been in months, “If you are not the right Commander for this project I will go to Magath and I will tell him what you have done and we can let the chips fall wherever they might because I’m sure, Father, if you thought this wicked scheme of yours was an admissible plan in the eyes of the war council and General Calvi, you would have told them yourself rather than putting it in the hands of your one and only daughter.”

Her body trembled with the effort of controlling her voice, her jaw creaking from how hard she pressed her teeth together. They stayed like that, challenging each other mere inches away. A cold darkness cast over her father’s face, a hatred she thought no one could hold for their child. He didn’t say anything but it looked as though he renounced her, privately, within himself an abandonment he would never make public because it would look bad. Because it would offend his wife and his wealthy father-in-law. He turned and returned to his seat. He sat, staring at the wall as Amelia breathed, trying to calm herself and think through the threats she’d made.

“Get out,” Wilhelm spoke his voice strangely empty.

She turned and looked at him, wavering with the fear that she’d only driven him to harsher ends.

“I said get out,” he looked at her, “I’ll leave that monster alone, I won’t even go near him because I can’t bear to see him. I’ll have Romer flog anyone that speaks ill of you. You can handle this how you see fit, as long as I know you are indeed doing as you have been asked. But, Amelia,” he paused, waiting for her to meet his eyes, “you will have a life after this, a life where you never have to be touched by that creature again, and the way you act now will determine the quality of that life. Remember that.”

She swallowed and turned walking out of his office and rushed down the hall. She didn’t breathe until she stood outside of the door. Outside the officer’s building, she coughed, the panic from their argument nearly making her gag. She let her head hang low and she righted her breathing. She stood, ignoring the perturbed stares of the few soldiers that saw her, and walked home. 

That night she joined her parents for dinner, finding it deep within her to allow her mother to fuss over her worn face and poor appearance without batting her away. She didn’t look at her father and he ignored her as well. That night she went to her room, and she slept through the night. She didn’t think of Zeke or of Hila. She didn’t worry for the safety of the Eldian children she knew and loved well or of the Marleyan officers she despised with her whole being. For the first time in a long time, she thought of nothing other than how badly she needed to sleep and tend to herself if she was ever going to achieve any of her goals.

⚯⚯⚯

Her singular night of sleep had amazing effects. Her mind felt clearer, the bags under her eyes still present but far paler, and she no longer felt like she was constantly walking a tightrope between crying and screaming. 

Her loose guess based on how the sun poured into her room was that she’d woken up midmorning. She yawned and stretched her arms as a quick knock echoed through her room.

“Yes?”

“Miss Suhr. Could I bring you breakfast?” It was Abelard, a surprising request on his part. He wasn’t often keen on suggesting eating in rooms other than the dining room and the parlor. 

“....Sure,” suspicion had to have leaked into her voice but he didn’t say anything just disappeared down the steps outside, the hollow sound of his shoes echoing in the stairs loud enough for her to hear from her bed.

She got up and pulled a robe on tying it closed. Abelard had seemed very watchful of her lately. Though sometimes it had been a maid or someone that worked in the kitchen, most of the nights that she ate in her room it had been Abelard that brought her dinner to her.

He was back quickly, once again gently knocking on the door, she walked over and opened it wide, letting him in so he could set the platter he carried on a side table just under her window, “If you don’t mind me saying, you look well-rested, Miss Suhr.”

“Oh?”

He nodded, smiling gently but not looking up from the plate he was setting, “Yes, I’ve been worried about you, taking to your room and seeming to not get much sleep,” he turned to her, tucking the platter back under his arm, “I hope I might be of assistance if you ever need it, Miss Suhr.”

She blinked. It was surprisingly personal for the ever stodgy old man, she smiled lightly, “Are you getting softer as your age?”

His laugh was very brief, very polite, “Perhaps, Miss Suhr.”

“I’m all right, Abelard,” she nodded, “thank you. I’ve just...felt unwell.”

“I understand, Miss Suhr.”

He headed to the door as she walked to the plate, he spoke just before heading out, “Again I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but I personally did some shopping this morning Miss Suhr, and I was out as the young warrior candidates rushed to the base from the internment zone. I overheard your name, so, I’m ashamed to admit I eavesdropped,” he held the door as he spoke. Like he’d slip behind it any moment.

“Oh? What did you learn?”

“Well they seem to miss you very badly, I hope you’ll have time to return to them soon, Miss Suhr. Only because it seems to bring such joy to you and them both,” his head bobbed slightly once more, “again, I don’t mean to pry, but I thought you would like to hear it.”

Amelia smiled slightly, looking out her window where she could just see the peaks of the internment zone wall, “that is nice to know, thank you, Abelard.”

“Of course, Miss Suhr,” and then he was gone.

Amelia thought over him as she ate. Perhaps he really did just worry for her. Maybe all of the servants in the house cared more than she expected. She tried not to be rude but she was always rushing in and out and they were expected to keep a professional distance. Save of course the nannies and nursemaids of her childhood long gone now. Though it cost far more, her mother insisted on a fully Marleyan house staff. Eldian servants, as most well-off families had, would send her into too bad of a panic. Amelia chewed her toast and imagined what knowing of Zeke would do to Silke. By the time she finished her meal, she decided that the knowledge of her and Zeke’s affair would simply kill her, right where she sat. Amelia dressed and headed down the stairs, out into the streets toward the military zone.

When she arrived there was yet another training session going on. More running and gun holding. Quickly reloading and firing and moving and firing again. Same as always, but the children’s faces did lighten up when she rounded the corner, despite how loudly their charge officer screamed at them.

Porco was nearby, between his leave and her brief avoidance of the base it had been months, she thought, since she’d seen him. She sighed, he didn’t like her much. Never had. She wasn’t sure why, she assumed it had to do with her being Marleyan, or with her father. Often when young candidates took to her poorly it was because they had a bad run with the PSA, thereby her father, and thereby her. Porco had no bad story of the PSA in his family though, not as far as she knew at least. The only thing she could figure, other than it simply being due to his slightly more sour nature, was his brother. 

She smiled slightly, thinking of sweet young Marcel. He was a noble boy, willing to suffer anything for his little brother or his friends and a natural leader. But Amelia’s favorite facet of Marcel’s personality was his keen awareness that Marley was abusing the Eldians, that the warrior program was a unique cruelty and not an honor. To date, Marcel’s well-disguised hatred of Marley had gotten her the closest to telling someone the truth of her work as Esther. In fact, she’d promised to tell him the whole of her beliefs when he returned. It was a long way off, she was sure, but maybe with a Titan Shifter on the side of the network things would be even better. Then again, maybe it would be cruel to ask, it was painfully clear he harbored a crush on her. This affection, if it were serious, might make him say yes to something he didn’t actually want to do. So it was easy to assume it might be the inspiration for Porco’s dislike of her.

“Amelia,” he said shortly, nodding.

She blinked, a little surprised at his use of her first name.

“Porco!” Colt chided softly.

“What?” Porco shot him a look, “the kids call her Miss Amelia, why can’t I?”

Amelia smiled slowly, “I think the kids get by on their youth and still using Miss. It might be unsafe for you, Porco. But, personally, I don’t mind you calling me Amelia.”

He grimaced, turning his face back to the cadets. She looked at Colt, half expecting him to get Zeke. Colt blinked, realizing, “Oh, Warchief Zeke ask-”

“I told him not to mind,” Zeke spoke suddenly behind her, she turned nervously, she knew he would be annoyed with her but even armed with that knowledge, his cold stare was hard to face, “you haven’t come around much lately, Miss Suhr, so I didn’t think my supervision would be needed.”

Her lip trembled, his voice was cold. Even madder than his expression had seemed, “I’ve been-”

“Busy, I’m sure,” his smile was quick, cruelly forced, “not always time to slum it with the young Eldians.”

She trembled, her mouth hanging open. From the corner of her eye, she could see Colt’s wide-eyed stare. Porco seemed to choke behind her, then he quickly brushed past, throwing an arm over Zeke’s shoulders.

“You know I think we ought to get in, we’ve got some stuff to set for the kids,” Porco offered, seeming to tug on Zeke.

Zeke’s glasses glinted in the noonday sun and she couldn’t see his eyes, “Well, back to work them for us, Miss Suhr. Have a fun visit.”

Porco’s eyes widened more. Even with his curt attitude, he seemed to register Zeke’s comments as harsh if for nothing else than how they seemed to affect her. He gave Zeke a panicked warning stare, “Well. Come on, Warchief.”

Colt gave her an apologetic look, nodding to her, “Goodbye, Miss Suhr.”

And then the three walked away from her. She could already hear Porco speaking to Zeke in a harsh whisper. They went through the door and Zeke never once looked back at her.

⚯⚯⚯

“What,” Porco emphasized by shutting the door, “the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Zeke frowned, rubbing his temple. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. Certainly not so publicly. He should have just kept his mouth shut and tried to bear her visit in silence. But she was just there, smiling at the cadets like she hadn’t put him through a month of hell. When her eyes had fallen on his own it didn’t even seem like she wanted to acknowledge her absence. So he lashed out, idiotically, because it felt like silence wasn’t going to express his hurt. 

“Hello,” Porco called, waving his hand in front of his face, “Look. I don’t like Amelia. You’re not wrong. She comes around so she can be worshiped-”

“Well,” Colt cut in, frowning, “I don’t think that’s true she’s always seemed nice to me.”

“Yeah...you didn’t live with Marcel,” Porco rolled his eyes, “She gets to come and go and play soldier and win the kids over and then leave. She doesn’t have a single price to pay. Some kids buy into it cause they like to feel special, hell, Marcel bought it in every color.”

Pieck sighed, suddenly sitting up on the couch behind them, leaning over the back, “I don’t see what was so wrong, Marcel just has a little crush on her, she’s a pretty lady.”

Porco held up a finger, “A privilege lady. She could easily get any of those kids beaten or killed with one little complaint. So,” his eyes moved to Zeke, “You aren’t wrong. She probably is slumming it and eating up all that attention with the silver spoon she was born with but you don’t say that to her face, Zeke.”

Zeke frowned, even if he was mad with her he didn’t like hearing Porco’s judgments. He knew she loved the kids. She knew many of their birthdays, who were siblings in the program, how their families were in the internment zone. She was privileged by her position but not thoughtlessly so as Porco suggested.

“Just drop it, Porco,” Colt said, seeming to notice the look on Zeke’s face.

“Are you kidding?” Porco looked between them like they’d all gone crazy, “Zeke goes off suddenly flinging insults at the Princess of the PSA and I’m the one that has to drop it.”

It was a brief moment, maybe people that didn’t know him wouldn’t have noticed, but for just a second Zeke’s muscles tightened. His whole body wanting to launch forward and knock Porco for the dismissive nickname. 

Porco’s eyes shot to Zeke’s hand, narrowing for a moment before looking up at him, “All right, I guess I will. Pieck, come on, they want you involved in today’s class.”

“Ohhhkay,” Pieck called, her dreamy voice nearly lightening the mood. 

Once they left the room Colt grimaced, “You’re friends, aren’t you? With Miss Suhr, I mean.”

It stunned Zeke a little. He looked at Colt for a moment, “No. I just try to be polite when she comes. I’m just...not in my right mind, I guess. Don’t worry, Colt. I’ll apologize when I see her again.”

Colt nodded briefly, glancing after Pieck and Porco and then back to Zeke but whatever thought raced in his head he didn’t say it.

⚯⚯⚯

By dinner, Zeke had collected himself again and if Porco was still suspicious or angry he’d let it go for their meal. They all ate together and then slowly trickled off to their quarters. Now he sat by his window smoking and staring out at the cold rain that pattered quietly on the glass.

He heard the lock click and then painfully familiar sounds of Amelia shuffling inside. She didn’t move further in the room. Didn’t put on music or even take off her coat and he didn’t turn to look at her.

His hand shook, the strange mixture of emotions making him unsure what would come out first. He took an almost painfully deep drag of his cigarette, “So,” he let the smoke loose around his head, “maybe it’s not Marleyan time that’s strange. It’s just you.”

She was quiet. Waiting. He couldn’t bring himself to turn toward her, but in the dark reflection of the window, he could see her, watching him. 

“You just do things whenever you feel like it with no concern for me,” he tapped the ash off the end.

“Zeke-”

“No!” he turned, speaking too loudly, his eyes wildly searching her face. He took a deep breath, listened for a moment to the rooms around him before he continued in a harsh low tone, “No, Amelia. You can’t do this to me. You can’t say every other day and then vanish for weeks! Do you-Do you have any idea what it is like for me?!”

He flung his pack of cigarettes across the floor, standing and moving toward her still far enough that they couldn’t touch, “I can’t talk about you to anyone! I can’t ask about you! I can’t,” he flung his arm up at the door behind her, “go out into the night and walk into your room whenever I feel like it. I have to wait. Wait until you deign to come to my room on your schedule and," he laughed bitterly, the harshness of it making Amelia flinch, "if I don’t want you here, I don’t even get to lock the door to keep you out!”

Her lip trembled but she didn’t interrupt or look away. It almost made it harder to yell at her. He bitterly wondered if that was the goal and, at the same time, desperately hoped that she knew she’d been unkind to him and regretted it. 

“I didn’t know if something happened. You realize that? You could have been in trouble, sick, or hurt. I wouldn’t know. I don’t…” he leaned in a little, trying to combat the rising notes of his voice, knowing that as much as he wanted to yell he couldn’t because of the quiet barracks they stood in, “I don’t get any control in this except trying to make a plan with you and for you to just toss that out at a whim and leave me with nothing?!” 

He stared at her. The hurt that had radiated through his body finally making it shake, his breath was ragged, voice struggling to express anger over desperate sadness. Her eyes were watery and sad but she held herself together. 

Finally, the silence became unbearable, “So tell me why. Whatever the reason, whatever drove you to do that to me because I have to know. I don’t want–it can’t just be because you felt like it,” his voice trembled almost breaking, the cigarette burning away to ash between his fingers.


	8. One of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia has to decide what stays secret and what doesn't and both she and Zeke seek comfort elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: smoking, emotional distress

Amelia stayed silent. Seeing Zeke bruised and battered had been hard but the pain etched on his face now was more than she could take. A terrible lump formed in her throat holding her captive, threatening to break her into tears if she spoke. It made her chest feel tight, her throat closed as though she was suffocating. 

Her coat was dripping on the floor, the dampness seeping through the wool slowly but surely threatening to make her body wet and cold. Zeke flinched, his cigarette burned down to his fingers, charring them. He dropped it and pressed it out onto the floor leaving a black ashen smudge on the wood. He watched her, his eyes harsh but shining in the dim glow of his lamp with tears that quivered as though they’d fall at any moment. Suddenly he stepped in, took her shoulder, and turned her. She thought for a moment that he was going to shove her back out the door for taking so long to answer but instead, his hands came up to the collar of her coat, giving it a small tug and then waiting.

It felt like her fingers were stuttering. She struggled with her buttons, trying to remove them too quickly, fumbling from the rain-slick plastic and her cold-stiff hands. When she finally got all the buttons undone he pulled the coat from her and retreated. She turned back to him slowly and watched as he pulled a hanger from the wardrobe and hung the coat on the edge letting the coat drip onto the floor. He watched the coat for a while, then turned to pick up his cigarettes from the floor, fussing with the damage his throw had caused the box. He sat back in his chair, lighting a cigarette and watching the rain. 

She had to tell him the truth. She knew that much. Not only was he probably too smart to be fooled at this point, not when so many things outside of her control had happened, but because it would be too painful. His trust, even if he was loyal to Marley, was betrayed every time she came to his room and hid the truth. Every time he held her she left feeling disgusted with herself for allowing him to without knowing what originally brought her to his room. 

So that’s what she would have to tell him. Her life and work as Esther could remain a secret. It had no effect on Zeke’s life, not directly, or on their growing relationship. If he was loyal to Marley as he said he’d turn her in, he’d turned in his own parents after all. She thought that awareness alone, of the danger he posed to her and her cause, would make it easy to keep him at a distance. Months ago, in the early days of her visits, she’d really thought that she could excuse any suffering she caused him because he was on the wrong side. She’d vastly overestimated her ability to stay subjective, to keep a distance from him. She would still have to lie to him. The full truth was too risky but her father’s plan, even if she never intended to bring it to fruition, couldn’t stay hidden any longer. Not if she wanted him. Not if she wanted to be fair to him.

“I-,” Her throat lurch terribly, she gasped holding back the tears, it wouldn’t be fair for her to cry. She was the one who had hurt him, it wasn’t her turn.

She looked up and he was watching her, his eyes looked strangely sympathetic, still holding on to some edge of anger but also barely holding him back from coming to her, or so she assumed by how he shifted forward in his chair.

She took a deep breath, wringing her hands, “I’m going to tell you the truth. Why I haven’t come and why I came the first time and...I know,” tears slipped from her eyes but she managed to keep her voice steady, “you may never want to see me again but I...I would deserve that.”

He took a deep breath and sat back, “Okay.”

“My father sent me here…he believes your ability. Your spinal fluid would pass on. To your child,” she paused. She didn’t know why she didn’t say the whole truth. She didn’t admit that her father had found the truth about Dina. Maybe because it felt like it would be unnecessary stress on Zeke. His mother was long gone, he had no siblings, and she didn’t intend to give him a child; it felt like a moot point that would only serve to panic him.

Zeke scoffed, taking another drag. He shook his head in disbelief, “Of course. A woman on a mission.”

She flinched, tried to take a step toward him but the speed that he snapped his eyes up toward her made her stop, “I never intended...I don’t want to-”

“To carry my child?” He frowned deeply, the idea of having a child by her seemed to disgust him, then his eyes softened and his voice dropped as though he barely dared to speak, “or to sleep with me?”

“No! To lie. I don’t want to lie,” her voice broke. She wiped her face. “I’ve been staying away from you because I felt too guilty. Because I was with you and you didn’t know why I first came.”

“Why did you come at all, then? If you felt so guilty?”

“My father would have punished me, sent me off, and found someone else, someone-”

“Less honest?”

A strange cry struggled in her chest. She held her face for a moment, furiously fighting back her tears, “Yes. I don’t know if you would have been with anyone else but can you really claim that you wouldn’t have? For certain?”

He grimaced at her, turning back to the window, “So you weren’t curious about me. You were just forced to come by your father...and that’s...why he beat me.”

She was still the realization that came into her voice stabbing through her. She nodded, sharp and quick. 

“That’s why you cried so desperately. Because you knew that’s why he’d done it,” his voice was thoughtful, cold. His eyes distant, “and then you felt guilty for being with me immediately after...so you just didn’t come back at all.”

“Yes, that’s right,” she nodded.

He sniffled sharply, twitching his nose, fighting back tears, “Why are you admitting it?”

“I don’t think I could lie to you,” she admitted, “I think you would figure it out if you haven’t already. I at least know you’re smart enough to be suspicious of me even though you do a good job of hiding it. I don’t want to lie. I don’t...want to hurt you.”

He was quiet, smoking the last of his cigarette. He put it out and lit another. She waited, watching his handsome features lit by the glow of the fire at the end of his cigarette. It reminded her of the first time he’d realized how attractive he truly was. It made her stomach ache, her heart clenching in her chest. 

“Bit late, Amelia,” he leaned back, locking eyes with her. He looked sorry like he regretted that they were sharing this moment. That, like her, he wished they didn’t have to go through this pain together. Like her he wanted their visits to go back to what they had been, playful conversation and warm impassioned caresses. She wished she’d seen how wonderful he was on her own like she’d claimed. Wished it truly had been innocent curiosity that led to their affair.

“I know,” she hung her head. Took a deep breath and set her eyes on him. “But telling you now is all I can do. I can’t untell my lies or make you stop hurting from them either.”

He shut his eyes, rubbing his face, “Is that...why you pulled away from me? The first few visits?”

She nodded, hoping he would think through their brief affair on his own. Terrified if she offered something it would feel like another manipulation and she’d done enough of those. 

“And you don’t intend-”

“No…! No...I couldn’t do that to a child. Or to you. I really...I care for you. I wasn’t lying about my feelings, ever, only the reason I came,” she held her chin up. Her one source of pride in this was her honesty since her first deception.

He stood and slowly made his way toward her, hovering there with almost no space left between them. He took a deep breath before he spoke, “I need to think. Come back in the night after next as we agreed. Can you do that?”

She nodded, afraid if she looked at him she would cry again.

He leaned down slowly and pressed his lips to her temple. She could feel the tears that had fallen down his face. He held his mouth there, long after it stopped being a kiss as he cried, his breath gently shaking against her face. It took all her strength to keep from reaching up and holding him. 

He pulled back slowly. Looking at her, “Come back. Like we agreed. I don’t think I can forgive you if you don’t.”

“I’ll come back, day after tomorrow,” she nodded. 

He nodded his head toward the door, “Go...and be safe.”

She looked up at him, his grey eyes mysteriously solemn. He looked like he wanted to reach for her but she knew he needed his time even if for a brief moment it looked like he didn’t want it. If he was going to choose her, to forgive her, and love her beyond the muddled beginning of their relationship then he needed to truly choose it. He turned and retrieved her coat and held it out to her. She took it into her hands and headed out into the night.

⚯⚯⚯

He thought for a while that knowing would settle his nerves. He’d always suspected there was another reason for her appearance. He supposed the pain that came with the truth was his price for not asking sooner. He had taken her at her word not because he necessarily believed her but because he had wanted to. He smoked the rest of his pack through the night by the time the sun was just cracking above the horizon all he had left was an empty paper box. It would be a pain to get another, it took a lot of leveraging his position and a good part of his pay to get his hands on smokes, they were a luxury Marleyans didn’t love sharing with an Eldian. He’d smoke them all thoughtlessly, as he felt he did many things lately, and now his throat was painful and rasped. 

He stood and mulled about his room. Changing into his clothes for the day. He didn’t have much to do. He could train with the kids, throw a ball with Colt, practice something. He didn’t want to do any of them though. He wanted to go ahead and find Amelia. Have it out then. Share that he’d come to a decision. A decision that he needed to know her feelings on but he also knew his choices around her were heavily influenced by how much he felt for her and what she was coming to mean to him. So he’d force himself to take the time apart and try and ensure he wasn’t so enamored that it clouded his admittedly fallible logic.

He imagined she’d avoid the base, try and give him space because, by all accounts, it seemed she was trying very hard to be kind but he didn’t want to chance it, so he decided to collect on some free time he was allotted, a small concession for the years of torture and training he faced as a child, and go and visit his grandparents.

He headed out without speaking to anyone into the misty morning air, the ground slick from the rain last night freezing over in the early morning cold. It was a boring walk across town from the base to the internment zone, made more so by his avoidance of the main road. He ducked, instead, into an alley and walked down, going through a grimy backstreet laden with trash that had been abandoned on the ground when it fell from the bin during pick up. Rats and the occasional stray dog pulling scraps from full trash bags. At least the cold kept the assumedly foul odor at bay. Up the alleys, he could hear young Warrior Cadets laughing and playing as they ran up the street from the internment zone to the base. It was them he wanted to avoid, he was in no mood to play the fun big brother today but he still glanced after them as he went. Worried for the poor performers that passed him by, the ones who didn’t have a chance of reaching their goal. Which really would be a good thing if it didn’t cause their parents to speak poorly of them as his had, or cost their families safety if they failed as it would for Colt. He saw the young girl with her cornsilk blonde hair rush by, still braided tightly the way Amelia had taught her. It made him smile though he tried to ignore the thoughts of the auburn-haired woman that came flooding in.

He cut back to the main street and nodded curtly to the guards at the large sliding iron door that barred access to the internment zone during the nightly curfew. His grandparents' house wasn’t a long walk from the door, a small, tidy white house just off the main street. It wasn’t a very nice house, a far cry from the grand mansions in officer’s neighborhoods of Liberio, but it was their house and theirs alone. All four rooms belonged to them and that was far more than most Eldians could claim.

He cleared his throat, still raw from chain-smoking his way through his thoughts the night before, then he opened the door and walked in, “Grandma?”

He glanced around the room, she wasn’t in her favorite seat by the window where she liked to sew or just watch the neighbors for a while though she never admitted it when he caught her. He walked further into the house, “Grandma!”

She wasn’t in the kitchen either, though she’d made rolls and left them out to cool, he tapped his finger on the glossy brown top of one. Still warm. He picked it up and took a bite, “Ah,” he hissed, swallowing quickly and opening his mouth as though he could release the painful warmth that burned his tongue.

“Zeke Yeager,” his Grandmother spoke from the hall that led to the two small bedrooms, “your whole life I warned you about that cat’s tongue of yours and your whole life you’ve eaten and drank hot things and then complained about it hurting.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Well, they’re their best when they’re hot,” he grinned, turning the bun in his hand, waving it slightly to try and cool it down. 

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him, “you haven’t come by in a while, dear,” she said, setting down the washing basket and coming to him, “what brings you around?”

“Just thought it would be nice to see you,” he smiled, then lifted the bun up and shook it slightly, “and look I was right on the money.”

“Oh! A little bread is all it took to call you home? Well,” she nodded her head to the small door that led to the backyard, a gesture that she wanted him to follow her, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She walked into the small yard where a large bucket of sudsy warm water sat waiting to help her wash. She must have been at it for a while, another pile of clothes sat by waiting to be hung. Not much rush in the cold, they’d freeze on the line out here so for winter they had to hang in the kitchen by the stove. He sat on a bench across from where his Grandma placed her stool to wash.

“You still won’t do the washing in the house?” He frowned, he hated her out in the cold like this. She was getting older, her once dark hair had faded now to complete gray. The knuckles and joints of her fingers worn with work were knotty like a twig from a tree. She was a serious woman but kind, and the worry of her life and the traumas that occurred to her children played out on her face in a fine mapping of deep wrinkles. 

“That old floor would rot away if I got it as wet as the ground gets while I wash,” she waved him off, “and it’s fine, the water is hot and the air is cold. It balances out. Now. Tell me why you really came.”

He blinked, eating the bun to keep her from prodding at him. A feint that only worked for a moment before she looked up at him, frowning with an eyebrow raised. 

“Zeke,” she warned.

“I’m eating, Grandma!” 

“Eat then. But tell me why after.”

He gave her a small smile that earned him a dismissive hum. He chewed the last bites slowly, looking at the window to the room he’d grown up in. A room he stayed in many nights even when his parents were still around. The room his father and his aunt had lived in as children, and then his father alone as a teen. He sighed, and turned to her, swallowing the last of the bun he came over and kneeled across from her rolling up his sleeves and sticking his hands in the steaming water.

“What do you think you’re doing!” she fussed, “With your sensitive self.”

Zeke laughed, taking one of his grandfather’s shirts in hand and rubbing the fabric together in the water, “I think I’ll be okay if I don’t try to do the washing with my tongue.”

She frowned for a moment but gave up, and turned her eyes back to the water. They washed in silence, the only noises around them coming from the streets and the wet slapping and splashing of the waterlogged clothes.

“You look bothered,” she spoke, glancing at him from the wash.

“Do I?”

“Stop your games, Zeke, you know I don’t like them,” she frowned and this time didn’t look up at him.

He sighed, “Okay. Perhaps I am bothered. So I came to visit my Grandma and now I’m doing chores.”

“So you need a distraction, do you?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, there’s a lot to be done once you finish that shirt so get to it.”

He snorted at her, continuing to scrub at a bloodstain left from a patient on his grandfather’s shirt, “You’re not going to ask what’s bothering me?”

“You wouldn’t say,” she paused, frowning into the water then quickly pushed herself to continue, “you’ve been that way your whole life. A darling boy but a quiet one. A private one. It was always hard to get an answer from you about how you felt or what was happening to you. I suppose that’s not completely your fault…” 

She sniffled, turning to wring out the cloth in her hands. He watched her, he had always loved his grandparents. They’d been a safe haven from his parents, misguidedly preaching the sins of the past to ears that were far too young to hear them but still they were warm and kind. It had never occurred to him that they’d been observing him, assessing the effects of his parents and his life on his nature. 

When she turned back she jumped slightly at his staring, “Have you changed your mind and decided to share whatever is going on?”

He couldn’t, of course, the affair would get him killed if it was discovered and if his grandparents knew they’d be punished as well. Not to mention the nature of his relationship and his feelings for Amelia were not the sort of thing he wanted to discuss with his elderly grandmother. But for a second he imagined what it would be like. In a different world, one where he and Amelia weren’t a carefully guarded secret, he would tell his Grandmother he’d met someone and ask to bring her for a visit. He imagined Amelia would be the type to bring an interesting wine and tell wonderful stories as they shared it. She’d jump to help his grandma in the kitchen and swap embarrassing stories at Zeke’s expense. She’d be a perfect guest, polite and gracious, a good listener as she was when he told her stories in the dark of his room. When she left his grandparents would praise him for finding her, and if she went too long without returning they’d chide him for keeping her hidden away. It was a frivolous fantasy, but still, one that made him smile softly to himself.

A flick of water across his face brought him out of his fantasy, he blinked looking at his grandma and her still-lofted hand, fingers folded and ready to flick again.

“Nothings going on,” he said, smiling slightly as he pulled his glasses off and wiped them with his shirt.

She shook her head, “Nothing. Very well. Then you can help with the washing while you’re here and you’ll stay for dinner.”

He smiled, finally freeing the stain from the shirt and tossing it to the pile to hang before sinking his hands back into the warm water.

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia stayed in her room all day. Once she’d left Zeke she struggled to sleep or think straight about anything, much less anything unrelated to him. It felt foolish to allow her feelings for him to rock her so badly, selfish even, in the face of the struggles Hila and the others in the network faced. Even knowing that she couldn’t cast him from her mind, she watched the clock until dinner.

“Miss Suhr,” Abelard called from the door, the clank of plates accompanying it.

She stood and opened the door, smiling slightly, “A preemptive strike is it?”

“Well. You didn’t join for breakfast or lunch so, more a preparation to force some food into your presence, Miss Suhr,” he nodded, walking to the small table. He set it down and glanced back at her, “I trust you’re well?”

“Oh, no, I’m afraid I’m very much not. However, I hope to be soon,” she sighed. 

He looked at her for a moment, twisted around slightly from the table, then his eyes wandered from her face to the door. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low and secret, “I hope...Miss Suhr...that you have a good friend to help you in times like this.”

She blinked at him, “Yes, I have a few,” she lied. No one knew the truth. At least, not all of it. No one but herself. Maybe that was the source of the loneliness that had made Zeke so easy to lean into.

“Good, go see them tonight, will you?” he said, walking from her. She froze, looking after him in confusion. She shut the door and turned the lock on instinct. She wandered to the platter and noticed the corner of a small piece of paper just barely sticking out from under the plate. She drew it out, the plate dragging along with it briefly. It was just a scrap, torn from a paper elsewhere in the house. She turned it over in her hand and her stomach dropped. There was nothing on the paper but a small symbol scratched in black ink. It was poorly rendered but the nine-pointed starburst was unmistakable. It was the Eldian symbol. Her heart raced. She looked between it and the door. Abelard had left it with her, she was sure, no one would chance him bringing it and not noticing it under the plate, he was too thorough. He mentioned her friends, did that mean he knew about her work in the internment zone? And why the Eldian star? Did he mean that he was Eldian or was it simply a way to show solidarity and support as a Marleyan? She lit a match and let the paper burn away in her fingers, letting it go just before the flame touched her skin and watched it dance in the air.

She ate quickly and rushed down the stairs, her bag clutched tightly in her hands. She didn’t see Abelard anywhere and she wasn’t sure she wanted to just yet. Instead, she hurried out and to the gate, and into the internment zone forgoing a bypass through the base library for fear of running into Zeke earlier than she was meant to even though she’d never seen him outside of his room before. 

When she reached Hila’s home it was Yacob that let her in, “I thought you might not come tonight,” he said, offering her tea.

“Why not?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well you didn’t come last night so I worried...I dunno that something happened,” he glanced away, “you know I would want to help. If something happened to you. Right?”

He was blushing badly, even in the dim firelight she could see it, she smiled softly, “thank you, Yacob, I’m okay but I’m glad I have a friend like you.”

He frowned, “A friend...huh.”

Hila suddenly came up the steps, swatting him, “Of course, a friend, you silly boy. You’re a child.”

“Mama!” Yacob protested.

“Ah,” Gatian smiled, coming up behind his wife but walking to Amelia, resting his arm over her shoulders, “but not a boy forever. He’s not so much younger than you, maybe one day when he’s a man you could join our family hmm?”

Amelia elbowed him lightly, “You just want easier access to wine, don’t you, Gatian?”

He laughed, the kind of laugh that was stunningly full and joyous, it always made people around him smile, “Hila you hear this!”

“I do,” Hila sighed, smiling still, “And she’s probably not wrong, is she?”

“Well. She would be a wonderful daughter-in-law regardless.”

Yacob’s face was burning “I’m glad it’s such a funny joke to everyone!” he shouted before he rushed out to the yard behind the house.

The three exchanged a look, sorry for joking too much on him, “I’ll try and talk to him,” Amelia offered, “and I’ll get one of you if he won’t hear me.”

They nodded, Hila admonishing Gatian for taking it too far as Amelia headed into the yard where Yacob lamely kicked at the dirt. He glanced at her, pouting, and then turned back to kicking rocks with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Don’t bother with me, Esther, I’m just a boy,” he grumbled and she couldn’t help but smile slightly though she tried to repress it.

“Yacob, I’m sorry, we shouldn’t tease you. You’re a very good person and very lucky to favor your mother rather than your father,” she joked, feeling relieved when he snorted though he tried to hide it.

“Pa does have a funny face doesn’t he,” Yacob smiled.

Amelia looked back into the window where Gatian was frowning comically large, “Oh the worst!”

Gatian frowned deeper, turning back to Hila talking, probably asking about his face. Amelia hugged herself to try and fight off the cold, “Are you okay, then?”

Yacob sighed, running his hand over his dark curly hair, “Just embarrassed, I…” he blushed worse, “I know I’m younger than-”

“Much younger, Yacob,” she smiled, “I’ll be eighteen soon, you know.”

“And I’ll be fourteen soon!” he protested.

“Yacob,” she warned gently.

Yacob huffed, “Dad says I’m stubborn like my mom.”

“So I’m noticing,” she snorted, “Come on, back inside,” she offered, holding his shoulder and guiding him into the house.

He looked at her, allowing her to push him toward the house, "I'll prove to you that I'm worth considering. If you don't mind waiting for a while until I'm a marriable age."

She laughed gently, shaking her head in disbelief at how forward he was already and at such a young age but before she could say anything else they reached the door and Hila spoke.

“Yacob, go help your brother and sister get ready to sleep,” Hila commanded, the flash of her eyes cutting off his response, though he still gave Amelia a serious nod before he headed on his way.

Amelia smiled watching him retreat, then looked at Hila who was also watching him go frowning, “Silly boy. He needs to get over his crush sooner or later.”

“I don’t think it’s hurting anyone, he’s a good boy. He’s not unreasonable about it and I’ll try harder to make sure he doesn’t get embarrassed.”

Hila sighed, sitting at their old kitchen table and gesturing for Amelia to join her, “I know but he’ll get his little heart broken if he doesn’t understand soon enough.”

“What do you mean?” Amelia asked as she sat.

“You have someone already don’t you? A beautiful girl like you.”

“Oh,” Amelia felt herself blush slightly, giving a brief awkward laugh, “No I wouldn’t say-”

“Then why,” she cut in quickly, giving her a serious stare, “did I see love bites on you?” Amelia’s hand flew to her neck on instinct, flinching when Hila raised an eyebrow, “Don’t worry. I haven’t seen any in a while. Which is why I mention it because...I know you don’t spend much time in the internment zone...it would be hard for you to meet many Eldians and you don’t seem very close with anyone in the network.”

Amelia looked at the table, frowning, “What are you trying to say?”

“...they’re...Marleyan aren’t they? Whoever left those marks…,” she sighed, rocking in her chair, “...I just want to know that you...agreed.” She chose her words carefully, uncomfortable with asking but clearly concerned for her safety. Amelia appreciated it but it still presented a unique challenge.

“I did,” she sighed, picking up the tea Yacob handed her earlier that had gone cold, she sipped anyway, “he’s in the military.”

“Can we trust him?”

“...with this? I don’t think so. As far as I know, he’s loyal to Marley,” Amelia sighed. Even if she could never claim it was Zeke, it felt nice to say some truth about him. It made their relationship feel more real. If they even had one anymore.

Hila frowned and pushed herself up from the table, “Fine.”

Amelia blinked at her, “You aren’t going to fuss at me?”

“Why should I. You aren’t my daughter,” she snapped slightly, then sighed and leaned back on the counter, “I understand...sometimes we do things because we want to and not because it is the smart thing to do. That’s why Yacob thinks he loves you. And why you’re with this Marley boy.”

Amelia snorted not because she was offended so much as Hila was very close to the truth, “I’m as bad as a Marley boy, huh?”

“You’re as dangerous,” Hila corrected, looking at her seriously, “and danger is interesting to the young.”

“You talk like an old crone,” Amelia smiled trying to joke her way out of the tension but Hila wouldn’t let up.

“That’s because I would like to be one, one day. Love whatever boy you want. What do I know? Maybe you love him and he loves you. Just…” she sighed, her face heavy with regret, “Esther so many things must be dangerous for you, so please, maybe every now and again, choose the safe option.”

Amelia sat quietly for a while. Looking into her tea and letting Hila’s words sink in before it became too much and she had to joke, “Are you just trying to ensure I wait around to become your daughter-in-law?”

Hila laughed, like the bark of a dog; loud, sharp, and alarming, “Not on your life, you’re far too much trouble.”

“Ladies!” Gatian shouted from the basement, “If you’re done with your private tea party I think everyone has arrived for the meeting now.”

Hila nodded to Amelia and they stood, taking the lamp with them and retreating into the dangerous dark of the basement.


	9. Smoke and Oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeke and Amelia come to a decision as others begin to make their intentions known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: manipulative/coercive language and behavior, explicit consensual sexual content.

Amelia leaned back on her chair, waiting for dinner to be served. She’d spent the better part of the day trying to figure out how to ask Abelard about the note he’d left her. She’d mentioned it to Hila but, being a very careful woman, she’d advised ignoring it until Abelard made a stronger gesture. A better showing of faith or an offer of information they could verify. Of course, Hila didn’t know all of the information. Amelia merely said he was a butler in the house she’d come from. Naturally, to an outsider, it might seem like a set up to catch her and cart her away for her illicit activities. The whole truth made it harder for Amelia to put the burden of proof on Abelard. That small piece of paper as proof and a quick claim from Amelia could have him thrown in jail, even as a Marleyan. Moreover, he wouldn’t have done it unless he had good reason to suspect she had some involvement with Eldians. What she couldn’t figure out was the tone. It could be an offer of help, but that seemed perhaps too optimistic.

It may have been a warning, a simple attempt at letting her know someone on staff knew about her activities, after all, it was very difficult to hide Esther’s clothes given the staff went in and out of her room every day doing their chores. She’d thought, back when she first started, to ask to handle things herself, but it was strange and suspicious for a privileged fourteen-year-old to ask to do her own washing and it had caused her much more trouble than finding a better hiding spot. 

The worst option, the one that made her blood rush in her ears, was that it could be a threat. Maybe Abelard, as kind as he’d always seemed, knew something or, worse, had proof, and he wanted her to do something for him in return. 

The biggest challenge was finding a way to bring it up that wouldn’t make him shy off if he was trying to help and wouldn’t give him any confirmation if he wasn’t. The challenge was increased by the fact that there were very few instances where she could ever speak to him without prying ears. She could have stayed in her room for dinner that night, but it had also become clear to her parents weren’t going to indulge her avoidance much longer.

Finally, the food was wheeled from the kitchen and placed in front of them, Amelia nodded politely as the things were set. She didn’t really enjoy being served, though it was how most of her meals had been given to her since she was a child. It felt excessive, and much more distant than being handed a drink or a bag of sweet baked goods as she liked to grab from the street stalls or small shops of Liberio.

“Amelia,” Silke spoke once the food was all served and the servants had retreated, “your birthday isn’t long off, do you know what you’d like?”

Amelia looked at her, tilting her head in confusion, “I wouldn’t say...soon...it’s another month or so.”

“That’s soon if we’re going to have a party,” Silke said, taking a tiny bite of food onto her fork.

“Oh! Well, that’s okay. I don’t think I really need a party it’s-”

“Nonsense! It’s your eighteenth birthday. Officially a woman. A marriageable young woman. You’ve avoided it until now playing soldier and student and I’ve let your father have his time but you blossoming into society, being courted, and getting married, well, that’s my time. As your mother,” Silke seemed pleased with herself as she cut up her dinner, blissfully unaware of Amelia’s discomfort. Unbothered by how she claimed parts of Amelia’s life were meant for her and her husband’s enjoyment.

“Ah,” Wilhelm frowned, he hadn’t been speaking to her much, not since she’d yelled at him, but he still cared about his plan, “she has time. That’s in vogue now, to wait for marriage, I mean.”

“Well regardless of her time,” Silke huffed, “I think a party would be nice. There haven’t been many lately so everyone is sure to come. If Amelia happens to find a young suitor there that she fancies all the better.”

Wilhelm raised an eyebrow at her, suspicious, “Yes...well, I don’t think a party would hurt.”

“Fantastic! I’ll get to thinking of a theme soon, or at least a color palette for the decorations and the dress, Amelia has always looked darling in purple and blue,” Silke grinned at her.

“Actually,” Amelia forced herself to smile back, but she felt small and awkward, “yellow and green are my most favorite colors, for the decorations I think-”

“Oh! Well...I think,” Silke frowned, “those colors don’t serve you so well because of your hair color, I mean. Blue really makes the red tones shine. It’s special!”

Amelia nodded, looking into her plate. She focused on eating instead, knowing that whatever her birthday party was it would suit her mother’s tastes more than anything else. It wouldn’t be long, just a few more bites, and she’d sneak out into the street to go see Zeke. She felt excited, weirdly enough. She’d thought she would be more scared than anything else and she was, her stomach had been in knots since she left him. Speaking to Hila had given her a weird confidence, even if she knew deep down Hila would lock her in the basement if she knew who the ‘Marley boy’ actually was, but then again, she’d do the same if she knew who Amelia really was too.

“Amelia?”

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you thought about bringing a date to your birthday party?”

“What? Oh. Well. I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s just a party and...I don’t have anyone I’d want to bring so I don’t think I would have much fun if I did ask someone just to have a date.”

“Just let the girl go alone, then she can talk to whoever she likes,” Wilhelm offered.

“Well, it’s going to be a dance! Of course. You’re both acting like it would be anything else. She isn’t a child. We can’t just invite others over to open toys and run around in the yard!”

That sounded far better than a dance. It was becoming very painfully clear who her mother had in mind. She’d been going to tea with Mrs. Fernow for weeks and when Amelia saw her mother now she always found a way, no matter how awkward it was, to bring up Romer.

“Yes, but Amelia doesn’t need a date to her own dance if she doesn’t have one she can spend the evening dancing with any lad she likes, and then she might, like you said, find her a man she’d be interested in dating,” Wilhelm spoke as he ate which was gross but Amelia was sure he was hoping to rush through dinner to end the conversation.

“It’s a dance. It’s very normal to go with someone and still dance with others. And who knows if she had the right date she might not want to dance with anyone else,” Silke gave Amelia another one of her knowing smiles. Infuriating given how wrong she was.

“There is,” Amelia spoke strongly, her voice even and clear, “no one that I know that I would enjoy going with. I assure you, Mama. Whoever comes to mind, you are incorrect.”

Silke frowned, deeply then puffed up like a cross chicken, “Perhaps you ought to pay more attention then!”

“Perhaps,” Amelia widened her eyes at her mother, the sarcasm in her voice making Wilhelm choke on his wine briefly before Silke cut her eyes at him. “I’m done with dinner, I’ll turn in for the night.” Then she breezed past and out the door, her mother’s annoyance at Wilhelm’s slip-up providing her enough cover to sneak out of the house. 

Though it was still bitterly cold there was a strange sweetness in the air, a tiny whisper of the warmth to come. It was hard to believe it would be spring soon. She wondered how different the walk to Zeke would be then if it was still a walk she took. She wouldn’t be so bitterly cold but they’d also have less time together given how short summer nights were. She wondered if he’d still be able to retire after dinner then. Maybe they could see each other in the sunlight then, even though it would probably still be hard to get to his room until dark. She tried not to think about how all this wondering might be for nothing depending on what he’d decided in their time apart. 

Instead, she thought of the young warriors who’d been shipped to Paradis back in fall. She worried if the other’s were being kind to sweet, gentle Reiner, or if Bertolt was being a little better about acting rather than thinking. She hoped that Marcel was as good of a leader as they expected. She even worried for Annie, who’d always been the most difficult to reach and get to know, she hoped the mission wouldn’t make her even more severe. Most of all she hoped they all returned.

She clouded her mind with them until she got inside the base, then she kept a careful watch around her as she approached the door. When she reached for it the young guard stopped her, “Miss Suhr, wait a moment.”

“Wh-what? I’m allowed in my father-”

“I know, I was just asked to delay you a moment,” he nodded behind her and she turned.

Her instant thought was that she would rather eat glass, or scream, or scream as she ate glass but instead she spoke as curtly as she could while still at least seeming polite, “Officer Fernow what is it?”

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke sat by his window. He wanted to be sure that he was awake when she arrived. As alert as he could be for their conversation. He’d already put on a record, which felt a little preemptive, but the noise helped distract him. He sat back down and pulled out a cigarette, a very expensive purchase he’d made on the way home from his grandparents' house. He lit it and took a deep drag and then suddenly, felt a strange pull in his stomach. He shook his head, trying to ignore the sudden thought of Amelia splayed out beneath him, pieces of her bangs clinging to her forehead from the small beads of sweat. How her legs had felt wrapped around his hips. He cleared his throat and stared at the megaphone in realization. He hadn’t even thought of it when he’d put it on but this was the record that had played in the background the first time they were together. He realized that the national anthem of Marley had been playing as she confessed to wanting him, and he kissed her. That other nationalist music about the beauty of their country and the might of its military had played the entire time he undressed her and laid her on his bed. The irony was only outweighed by his sudden fear of thinking of her during an army-wide assembly in the future. Even if it was sort of funny to think he finally had a reason to like the pompous notes of the song. So far that first time had been the only time they’d shared a moment with music playing and he’d subconsciously selected it. He scoffed in disbelief and got up to set a new one. If she remembered it might seem like a strangely forward thing to do. If she didn’t the national anthem and other patriotic songs wouldn’t set the right tone anyway.

He flipped through the sleeved vinyls of his collection. Patriotic music was certainly out of the question now. Other offerings were too sad or too angry. He struggled to remember that night, who’d put on the music, and then he remembered it had been her. He smirked, “...why that little…” and then he laughed he wondered if she’d given it any thought at the time, or if she’d just grabbed the first one and fate had taken the joke from there. As he flicked through the vinyls he paused on an old one in the back. It was the only, even slightly, romantic offering he had. The score to some opera his grandparents and parents had liked, or so they assumed, they’d never been able to see it. Like probably most operas and certainly like many famous stories, it featured lovers struggling to be together. So he put it on, Maybe he selected it because it was one of the few that wouldn’t make sense as a score to morning training but then again maybe it just seemed fitting for them. A small gesture that might make the sharp corners of her mouth tug into a smile if she noticed.

With the brief moment of classical conditioning handled, Zeke sat back down in his chair. Smoking and watching the door. His feet still ached strangely from standing at attention against the wall during yet another war meeting. For hours his only entertainment was Pieck, who’d squirmed badly the whole meeting still unaccustomed to life in her human body and unwilling to stand so rigidly for so long. 

The meeting had been about a planned annexation of yet another country. More specifically, it had been about how they would handle it without the power of the seven titans in Marleyan control. Though Commander Magath had offered one of them to go and the other to stay home for defense, General Calvi felt anything less than two titans would seem inconsequential, unintimidating to whoever they were invading and too small a deterrent for whoever might try and take the opportunity of attacking while they were engaged elsewhere. 

Ultimately, they decided Zeke and Pieck would stay home and the regular army of Eldians would go with its scant Marleyan officers to handle the conflict. From there the conversation had gone off the rails with talk of using Zeke’s spinal fluid and a recorded scream, an idea he had to politely suggest wouldn’t work. He wasn’t able to provide a reason beyond the one that rang around in his head, but he knew ‘because of course it won’t’ wasn’t a wise thing to say. So instead they slated a time to test the theory and the man that suggested it was commended for his efforts.

Even now, thinking of it in his room Zeke cringed at the thought of having to scream into a microphone tomorrow. He knew it wouldn’t work because the important part of using the power wasn’t so much the scream itself but rather the will behind it. He doubted he was a good enough performer to imbue the scratched vinyl with his desire. So instead, at least among himself and Pieck and Proco and Colt whom they shared the story with at dinner, it had become a very funny story. Especially Porco who’d cried laughing over it and teased Zeke relentlessly about putting out an album.

Zeke sighed and glanced outside. It felt like it had been dark for a while. Fear began setting in. Fear that she just wasn’t coming. That all that explaining she’d done through tears the day before was her goodbye. Concern that she just wanted to relieve her guilt and be done with him. He scowled, he felt stupid for not questioning her more. The more he’d thought about it the more obvious it was. She’d even said that she was guilty. He was just blinded, by lust or love or loneliness. Or a mixture of the three. That’s why he sat, lighting his second cigarette when he’d already told himself he’d only have one for the night and hoping she would come through the door even though it would be better for them both if she didn't.

⚯⚯⚯

Romer blinked, clearly affronted by her tone, “I wanted...to talk with you. Come here,” he waved for her to come to him.

She glanced at the guard, the same one that had frowned at her when she’d gone by with her messy braid, who now grimaced and made it clear by how he stepped in that he didn’t intend to let her through the door. Then she turned and raised an eyebrow at Romer for telling her rather than asking. 

He didn’t apologize, only waited with his arm held out to her. She walked over looking at him and he cast his eyes to his arm and then held her stare again.

“What is it then, Officer Fernow,” she asked, holding his arm as lightly as she could.

He folded his hand over hers, securing her fingers tightly to the fabric of his coat sleeve, “I’ve been made a Second Lieutenant, did you hear?”

“That’s lovely, I’m sure your family is proud,” she smiled, glancing back at the barracks as he walked them away.

“Yes...what do you think?”

“What?” She turned to him, blinking. 

“What do you think? I have a better title. No longer just Petty Officer Fernow,” he wasn’t looking her in the eyes, instead, he’d focused on a small wooden bench in the shadow of the wall. He paused, held his arm out, and gestured for her to sit.

“I’ll stand, Of-”

His eye and the corner of his mouth both twitched, a tiny gesture that he fought to contain but still enough for her to notice. She clenched her jaw.

“...Second Lieutenant Fernow…” she corrected slowly.

“You wouldn’t have to remember all that if you’d just call me by my first name,” he forced himself to laugh but it was joyless, “and...I’d ask your permission to call you by yours.”

“No,” she frowned at him, “I would prefer we were polite to each other.”

He scowled slightly, swallowed hard, and then looked at her, “We can be polite and not be the textbook definition of formal. After all, our families are friends now, it wouldn’t be strange...for us to be close. I mean.”

Amelia felt her eyes narrow slightly, “Still.”

He sniffed, and cleared his throat, “And you won’t sit?”

“I won’t.”

He took a deep breath, one hand holding his belt and the other in a tight fist at his side, he struggled with something for a moment, “I think this would be easier if you would sit, please.”

“No,” she said, her voice rising slightly, “just tell me what it is that you want to discuss.”

“Tell me,” he spoke, his voice sharp, surprisingly aggressive before he calmed and continued, “about the man you see in the barracks.”

“Excuse me?” her eyes were wide. Nothing about the way he was behaving made it seem like he knew the whole truth. He just thought he did because he knew of the boyfriend she had according to her father. 

“Come on, don’t try and play coy,” he sighed, looking at her with pity, “you’re caught up with a boy and it makes sense. You’re young, adventurous, and...beautiful...you like playing at war here and so you found yourself a soldier boy to romance but...look the rumors-”

“Damn them,” she spat, “I go to the library and I read. Any assumptions from there-”

He wheeled on her, “Amelia, no one comes out of a library with their hair in a rat’s nest and a flush all on their cheeks unless they’ve been doing something vastly different than reading in the stacks.”

Her eyes shot to the man at the door, and then she glared up at Romer who looked at her with a concerned pity.

“He’s my friend, and, yes, you’re right he has orders from your father to let you into the library. Your father trusts you. He loves you, very much. I can’t let this boy you have convince you to betray his trust any further. And I…” he sniffed hard, a strange pained look on his face, “I can’t stand to hear the rumors swirling around you. Especially given the types in our army. Amelia, they’re starting to try and claim your lover is some Eldian soldier,” he spoke lowly stepping to her.

“W-What,” she felt her heart in her throat. 

“Well it’s only natural such a rumor would spread, so little of our army is made out of Marleyan men now. Something I and Commander Magath agree is a shame. I know you wouldn’t do that, you have sympathies, sure, because you’re a gracious woman. You aren’t wretched though, I know you wouldn’t lay with one of them,” his lip curled at the thought.

“How dare you,” she hissed, stepping into his face, “speak to me like this. I have half a mind to knock your head straight.”

He held her arm, “Amelia...I’m worried about you. I can only do so much to deter their talking. I don’t know what this boy told you he can offer you but...he can’t. I can. I’m a higher rank now. A respectable rank. And I...understand how your sweet nature could have been taken in and turned to waste in the hands of someone who isn’t careful with you. You need someone who’s more concerned with your reputation than with their pleasure.”

She blinked, rapidly. Shocked to silence. Then she laughed, a short humorless scoff.

“Don’t dismiss me,” he barked, “You’re still very young and I know you probably don’t take this seriously but I mean it. Whatever….enjoyment...you share with that boy is nothing that can’t be delayed to preserve your name.”

“Thank you,” she spat, “for your council. I would like to go now.”

“Amelia,” he spoke quickly, grabbing her arm, “I’ve asked my friend to keep the door secure for the night.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed, the horrible realization of what being barred from Zeke’s room tonight of all nights clearly playing on her face even though Romer couldn’t know why she looked so upset.

“I’m sure you’re going to be agitated with me for a while, and perhaps the boy won’t be pleased he had to go a night without your company. Maybe if he is you’ll realize how little he actually cares for you,” he tried to smile at her, a show of good faith that made her want to rid him of the burden of having teeth, “I know you’ll be upset with me for a time...but I just want you to go home. Think of my words for a while. I’m trying to do what’s best for you. I’d like the chance to do better for you in the future if you’ll hear me out.”

She snatched her arm from him, glaring, “I think you will find that incredibly unlikely, Second Lieutenant Fernow.”

She marched away ignoring him calling after her with the name she explicitly told him not to, back out of the front gates of the base, she’d have to go around quickly the way she went when going to the internment zone and hope Zeke was still waiting.

⚯⚯⚯

His door flung open with an uncharacteristic force and lack of grace. Zeke blinked at Amelia who shut the door and leaned back against it breathing hard.

“Did you...run here?” he asked, trying to suppress a smile.

“No,” she sighed, still out of breath.

“Then why…?”

She sighed louder and rolled her eyes, “It’s a long story, and...embarrassing.”

Zeke tilted his head slightly, “I don’t know, Amelia. I think I might be owed a little embarrassing story.”

She blinked at him, an incredulous stare and her voice hilariously flat, “You’re a beast.”

He playfully nodded his approval, “I appreciate the correct terminology. Now,” he walked over and quietly undid her buttons, holding her gaze as he did, and then helped her out of her coat. “Tell me what happened?” he asked as he walked to hang it.

She sighed loudly, following after him to sit in the chair under the window, “I was barred from entering the barracks.”

“Even with your father’s terrible lie and the other slightly more believable lie?”

She snorted, hollow as she still tried to catch her breath, “Yes. Even with those.”

“How?”

“Romer.”

“Ugh.”

“Thank you!” she waved her hand in the air. Her clear annoyance made him chuckle, a side of her he hadn’t seen. She was normally more demure even when expressing contempt.

“And how did Romer have the right to stop you?”

“I doubt he actually does. He’s friends with one of the guards at the door. A guard who...seemed to have an opinion about me that’s less than flattering,” she frowned.

“I feel...somewhat at fault,” Zeke teased, sitting on the edge of his bed facing her.

“Well…” she glanced at him, her face reddening, “you should.”

He smiled at her for a moment. Enjoying the natural humorous rhythm of their exchange. Pleased that they hadn’t lost it in their time or apart, that it hadn’t vanished when she revealed the truth. He sighed and leaned back, “So you snuck in some difficult back way then?”

She bobbed her chin proudly, “like a thief in the night.”

“I was starting to worry…”

“Imagine how I felt then!” she smiled, her expression slowly melting to one of concern. “Did you make up your mind?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I want…” he sighed, scratching his ear thoughtful as he chose his words, “I want us to discuss it.”

⚯⚯⚯

“Okay…” she was confused, but it was better than rejection if nothing else, “what do you want to discuss?”

“First,” he sighed, “that’s it. Right? As far as your father’s plot goes. There’s no step two.”

“Not that I’ve been told… Or...not one between you and mean. I think you can gather what his plans would be for....you know.” she cradled her arms in her chest. Suddenly uncomfortable despite the easiness of their conversation before.

“For the child,” he quietly offered.

She nodded.

“And you aren’t...you truly aren’t bothered by me,” he swallowed.

For a moment she couldn’t figure out what he was trying to ask and then it hit her, “No. No...I really. I was honest about that. I really, honestly, don’t see Eldians as monsters. Just...very unfortunate people to put it in the simplest terms,” she spoke quickly. She wanted to be truthful, and she was, but she was worried he would argue with her. Claim she was incorrect and put himself down from the brainwashing he was raised in.

He sighed, laying his head back, “Well that’s true. We’re a terribly cursed people. Which brings us to the third question.”

She nodded, waiting as he seemed to struggle with it.

“Why?”

She waited for him to say more but he didn’t. He just cast his eyes away from her, pushing his lips together hard. “Zeke...I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why…” he took a sharp breath, “Would you want me. A warrior from a cursed race who’s already killed who knows how many in war. Who will keep having to do that. I’m…” he looked up at her suddenly, regretful and confused, “I’ll die in ten years if not sooner. I can’t even really be with you because of who we are. I can’t give you anything I can only take from you now so...it’s...hard. For me to believe that you want me. You shouldn’t.”

It made her cry. Quietly so he didn’t notice. He’d already hung his own head and stared hard at the floor. She listened to him breathing, the broken tempo making it clear he was trying to keep from crying. It was a visceral reminder of the damage her people had done to him. The risk she would always pose to his safety. A reminder of something hideous and dark neither of them started and more than likely neither of them would finish.

She stood and walked to him. She stopped, the toes of her shoes just shy of brushing against his feet, and gently took hold of his wrists, guiding his arms around her. He didn’t hesitate, he pressed his face against her stomach, arms holding her tightly. She smoothed his hair and let the moment linger before she spoke, “You’re very funny. Did you know that? You’re very funny in ways I never expected. I don’t think I ever imagined that...when a man held me I would...you know...be laughing? At least...not for any good reason. I always imagined it would be a very serious, business-like situation. Or rather so torridly romantically passionate we wouldn’t be able to speak but...somehow with you, it’s both. Incredibly romantic and also very funny.”

He looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Of course, that’s a very small part of our time together. Isn’t it? I guess it’s just...my favorite example. Not because of how it feels which,” she laughed despite herself, trying to ignore the awkward blush that tinged her cheeks, “is lovely but. It’s the only time you seem actually relaxed. No matter what we’re talking about you always seem like a part of you is worlds away working on something else important. I can’t figure that out. Maybe I won’t. But I admire it. I’m never happier than when I’m with you. Maybe it’s not such a poetic reason. It’s certainly not a laundry list either. But you, as a person; the funny mannerisms you have, and your bad habits. I just like it all.” She stopped and looked into his eyes. Smiling gently at the calm patient stare she was met with, “What do you think?”

He nodded, coughed awkwardly, and then wiped his nose, letting out a strange sigh like he was trying to hold back tears, “Quite the speech.”

“Thank you. I didn’t practice.”

He smiled and rolled his eyes, “Amelia,” he pressed her hips so she stepped back a little making it easier for him to look into her eyes, “it did...it really did hurt me.”

She nodded, solemn, her eyes moving anywhere but his own.

“It probably always will...only hopefully less...over time,” he took her hand in his and pulled her gently until she looked at him again, “and I...perhaps stupidly….have decided that that...is okay. If we’re together...we’re both going to hurt. I know that. And I know it’s stupid to move on knowing that but...we said together, didn’t we? We’ve had this talk before.”

She smiled a little, nodding, “We did. I think I was crying more then.”

“Oh...yes I was wondering what was missing,” he teased weakly.

She laughed the first full laugh she’d given in a while, quickly covering her mouth and he shushed her and smiled.

“One more thing,” he said, his expression suddenly growing serious, “and I mean this, Amelia. We cannot have a child. No matter what happens with your father. No matter if he calls this off and we have to find another way to see each other. If he tries to find another girl and I have to avoid her. Whatever else might happen when we fail to meet his goal. We have to do everything we can to avoid it. I will hurt you enough just by being what I am-”

“Zeke.”

“It’s true. But...I won’t,” his eyes seemed distant. She wondered what he was thinking of. If he thought about his parents, or how his death was set, or maybe something else she hadn’t learned about him. Whatever it was it made his eyes harsh in a way that made a chill rush down her spine even though it wasn’t directed at her, “I won’t let that happen to a child. I’ll never be a father.”

She nodded. It was an easy agreement. Her father’s plan was cruel and wicked, moreover, she’d never thought she could bear carrying a child only to give it away to be tortured as their father had, “Okay.”

He seemed relieved. Standing and putting his arms around her tightly, “I’ve missed you.”

She sighed, leaning into him and breathing in the smokey smell, “I missed you too.”

“So Romer-”

“Ha! No. Absolutely not.”

“No, no just the one question: he’s Mr. Seven-years. Isn’t he?”

Amelia leaned back, arms still around his chest but looking up into his face. He raised an eyebrow.

“...yes.”

He made a show of his disgust, letting his head drop back, “Ugh. That’s awful.”

She laughed, her body shaking as she pressed her face to his chest, “It is! He gave me a speech about how he was trying to protect my virtue and good name and,” she rolled her eyes, “it was just so pompous. And grossly overstated his importance moreover.”

“Mm. Yes,” he smiled, suddenly leaning down to kiss her, “better to take the complete opposite approach.”

She stalled in the aftermath of his kiss, her speech slowing and eyes falling to his mouth, “how so?”

“Oh,” he looked at her matter of fact, “I have no intention of protecting your virtue at all. Do whatever you’d like, by all means. Please, in fact.”

She smiled, taking hold of the collar of his shirt and pulling him toward her slightly, “Is that so?”

He looked at her, his hands sliding around her waist and pulling her in, “Very much so.”

She grinned and pressed herself up to kiss him. He lowly hummed into the kiss, arms wrapping around her tighter since he couldn’t pull her any closer to him. Her lips parted against his own, a small moan escaping her.

He pulled back, “I’ve missed you…” he repeated, with a different meaning this time.

She reached into his hair and gave it the slightest tug, trying hard to ensure it wasn’t painful, “Are you sure?”

His head rocked back with her tug but when it came forward again he set her with the hungry stare she’d grown so used to, she swallowed dryly, taken off guard by how much it affected her and how badly she missed it, “I’ll start liking that soon enough if you keep at it.”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

“I don’t want to like it,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss her, “it’ll be an unfortunate side effect.”

“Can I stay here tonight?” she asked, his nose brushing hers, “and go in the morning?”

“Of course,” he smiled, taking her face in his hands and kissing her. With a deep breath, he leaned away, pulling at his clothes. He didn’t glance at her but she knew he was aware of her eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt and undid his belt. He quietly laid them over the chair and turned, looking at her. “Are you going to sleep like that?”

She rolled her eyes and brushed past him, standing beside him as she undressed, ignoring his presence until she heard a low sound from him, “Did...you just...growl?”

“...I may have,” he smiled with just enough shame to look bashful even though his eyes looked very proud.

She squinted at him playfully. Then continued to undress down to her slip. Her mind racing with thoughts of the last time she dressed as such. She looked at him, enjoying his expectant stare, how he swallowed when she held eye contact for a while.

Then she turned and went to the bed, smiling when he laughed suddenly. He came over quickly, flinging back the sheets and dropping into the bed with her. She smiled at him, “Zeke.”

“Mm?”

“You smell different, the smoke I mean.”

“Ah...I had to get a different,” he rolled, hand tapping on the bedside table until it found the box and held it up above them to show her, “pack. They were out of what I usually get.”

“The white box?”

“Yes. That would be the usual,” he sighed, rolling back to return the box.

She nodded, it had certainly been full two days ago. She didn’t know the habit was such a bad one. Not that it mattered when your body healed like his. She moved in. The arm she laid on folded against his chest, fingers lightly tapping at him. She wrapped her other arm around him, holding them close. He returned the favor, the arm he supported himself on gently playing with her hair.

“Amelia?”

She leaned her head to look at him and was met with a kiss, slow and passionate. His hand holding the back of her head. It made her feel weak, how the feeling wracked through her body. He pulled back, his breath rough against her face, his hand gently caressing her shoulder, pushing aside the strap of her slip as he leaned in and kissed her neck. She thought briefly she should warn him about the marks he left behind, but she didn’t want to think about anything else outside of this moment in his room.

She pushed her face against his head until he pulled back and returned his lips to hers. Her hand pressed flat to his chest, tracing the muscles that twitched and flexed under her touch. He pressed his tongue into her mouth, gentle and curious. Something he’d only done once before. It was a strange primal sensation that made her groan against him, hips pressing to his own.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. She understood, and like him wanted the moment to continue without the talking and laughing she’d mentioned before. She loved his humor and the ease of being with him because of it. But this was easy for another reason; she knew she could trust him and she wanted to. 

Their hands slid deftly under the covers, his pulling himself free of his boxers and hers moving to pull her underwear aside, no time to fuss with fully freeing herself from them. His hand surfed over her thigh, easily pushing her short slip up and pulling her leg over his hips, eyes never looking away from her own. Then he returned his hand, guiding himself into her gently and placing his hand on her hip to hold her with him. 

She moaned, it had been long enough without him she forgot the sensation, a fullness that made her feel more aware of herself. A connection to parts of her body she rarely thought about and a connection to him she desired any time she did. Her hand slid to mirror his, placed on the strong muscle of his hip, her leg hooking tighter over him. She fought to keep her eyes open and looking into his own. Every time he rocked against her gently brought a wave of awareness through her body, his intense stare only heightening the sensation. She whined suddenly, her hips jerking slightly against his own making his jaw drop, a gasp escaping against her shoulder. He gripped her hip tightly and pulled her, pressing her as close to him as their bodies allowed, his fingers spread wide, the desperation of his touch almost as pleasurable as the measured rocking of his hips.

His breath was loud, aggressive almost, moans and low growls mixing into his voice. He seemed to struggle as she did between wanting to let his head drop back in pleasure or squeeze his eyes shut in concentration and holding her gaze. She reached up, holding the back of his head in her hand, her thumb pressed into the smooth skin of his cheek just in front of his ear. She pulled his head in and leaned her own back so they looked at each other as evenly as they could. She held him here, nose to nose. Trying to help him stay with her, despite how she herself was struggling against her desire to shut her eyes and focus on the tight feeling growing deep within her. 

He almost looked wild. The way his eyes had glossed over in passion but still seemed so focused on her. He occasionally would lose control of himself, pressing his eyes shut and push his forehead against hers, the way he did when he flirted with her. The arm that wasn’t gripping her bruisingly tight held the back of her head helping her keep them close. The movement of their hips had grown faster, more synchronized. She could hear his bed creaking slightly below them, mixing with the sounds of her gasps and his deep, slow breaths. Then her fingers suddenly tightened, gripping the side of his head, and her hips spasmed against his. A groan echoing from her open mouth, his eyes gazing into hers. She hadn’t noticed before how her body squeezed against him, but this time she felt it as he continued to move, making the moment so pleasurable her mind felt fuzzy and blank for a moment. His own groans almost became pleas against her skin, her body calmed and she stared into his eyes, fingers lovingly tracing his skin. He grabbed her hip even tighter, pulling her into him as he pushed into her making her whimper in surprise. Then he pulled back roughly, looking between them to assure he’d pulled away. She guided his face back to hers as he came, his face twitching an expression of shock and pleasure, mouth held together to quiet his moan. She felt a wet place on her slip and leaned in, pressing her mouth to his in a surprisingly innocent kiss.

When she pulled away he sighed and spoke out of breath, “Sorry...your slip.”

“Forget my slip,” she smiled, “ruin a hundred slips.”

He laughed, weak from the effort, rubbing his hand lovingly over her head, mussing her hair in the process, “A hundred you say.”

She smiled, pulling her body back against him, listening to their heavy breaths echoing around the room that smelled, she suddenly realized, strongly of smoke and oranges.


	10. Crocus Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling into a pattern, life almost becomes easier, but the abuse and terror of the world around them becomes too difficult for Amelia to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Note: Mild consensual sexual content, abusive language, violence, and injury.

He must have fallen asleep but it couldn’t have been for long because Amelia was still awake peacefully locked in his arms when his eyes snapped open again. He really wanted to go right back to that peaceful dreamless state with his head resting on hers until dawn but he knew he shouldn’t. He knew he should fix the mess he left on her slip in his distracted passions.

He breathed in sharply, willing himself up, smiling slightly at her disappointed confusion. He reached his hands under the blankets, grabbing her slip and pulling it up, “All right, come on.”

“Wh-what,” she blushed, trying to stop him from pulling it off.

“Let me wash your slip,” he sighed, letting go long enough to tuck himself back in his boxers and grinning at her lightly.

She frowned, yawning and still trying to fight his hands away, “It’s fine. I’ll handle it later.”

“No, Amelia,” he smiled, amused at how whiney her sleepy voice sounded, “I know you aren’t familiar with this particular situation but it will stain.”

“So?” she frowned, drawing the covers around her.

He rolled his eyes, the grin still pressed on his mouth, “It will be a stain you cannot get out. More importantly, I imagine someone who washes your clothes will figure out what kind of stain this is and I don’t think it’s the best idea to give them physical proof that you have a boyfriend in the barracks.”

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, focusing on him, a grin slowly spreading across her face, “boyfriend...huh?”

He blinked. His chest tightening with an uncomfortable tingling sensation. He didn’t feel embarrassed often, he couldn’t even think of the last time he had. But her wide teasing smile coupled with the glee dancing in her eyes made his heartbeat race and he could feel the blood rushing to his face. Worse yet she clearly noticed because she leaned forward sharply about to speak. He yanked up pulling her slip off leaving her in nothing but her underwear and shock.

She gasped, hands sliding to cover her bare chest, “It’s cold!”

He snorted, rolling his eyes, and turned to walk toward the bathroom, “Then stay in the bed and you’ll be warm, besides, I wasn’t aware that silk and lace were so thermally efficient,” he turned on the water in his sink, gently dropping the dirtied part of her slip in, “I’ll have to suggest we start wearing them under our uniforms.”

She didn’t respond so he assumed she couldn’t hear him over the water. He shut it off, gently rubbing the fabric together worried she’d have to throw it out completely to hide the evidence, a thought that made him feel ashamed, like some sort of devious monster rather than a lovestruck young man. He supposed that was a matter of perspective.

“I think I’d pay to see that,” Amelia spoke suddenly from the doorway, “you in a slip?”

He chuckled, lifting his head to look at her in the mirror. His stomach dropped. She’d put on his shirt. She leaned on the door frame, arms crossed in front of her holding the fabric closed. He looked back at her and narrowed his eyes, “you had to grab my shirt, huh?”

She blinked, “Well I was cold. It’s surprisingly soft.”

He rolled his eyes, returning to the task at hand because looking at her with her messy hair in his shirt was overwhelming. She hummed sliding up beside him and undoing her braid, fingers working to calm her hair. His shirt, too big for her but unbuttoned revealed the whole middle of her torso, occasionally revealing more as her fingers moved against her hair. She glanced in the sink, “Thanks…”

He met her eyes. She smiled at him slightly, a small embarrassed look, “It’s all right. I did it, after all. But,” he laughed weakly, “this isn’t exactly the most glamorous part.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, returning to smoothing her hair in the mirror, “you should have seen me fall through the library window breaking in here.”

He snorted, leaving the slip alone in the water to soak, “I appreciate the effort.”

“Of course, what else is a girlfriend to do,” she said, so calmly it took him a moment to register. He sighed, grabbing her hips sharply, turning her, and lifting her on the counter all in one swift motion. She gasped in surprise, “why did you put me up here,” her voice was coy, but the heavy look in her eyes betrayed the truth that she’d enjoyed it just like he’d hoped.

“You,” he said, pushing one of her knees aside so he stood between her legs, “seem to want to tease me so I thought...I would tease you.”

“How was I teasing you?” she asked, fingers pushing into his, drawing his arms to her hips. She arched her back, putting her mouth very close to his as she waited for an answer.

“Does this somehow not count?” he grinned, lightly squeezing her hips where she’d placed his hands and raising an eyebrow, “If not this maybe putting on my shirt would count. Or maybe teasing me about my word choice.”

“Oh you mean,” she smirked, hands pressing against his chest as she slipped them to his shoulders, one gliding to his neck and pulling him into a kiss, “how you announced yourself as my boyfriend?”

“That would be the word choice in question,” he sighed, glancing away, “yes.”

“I don’t think it’s teasing,” he felt her heels pressing at the back of his legs, making his knees bend slightly, trying to pressure him into closing the distance that remained between them, “if I intend to go through with it.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Meaning?”

“I don’t want to hold anyone else like this,” she smiled, a slight sadness in her eyes, “I care about you and like spending my time with you. Sounds like the same thing to me.”

He smiled softly, pulling her to the edge of the counter. A groan reverberated in his chest when she pressed against his burgeoning erection, her legs wrapping around him in instinct, “And the shirt?”

“I was honestly just cold,” she smiled, pulling him to kiss her again.

He lifted her easily, making her giggled and fling her arms around him. He turned and carried her to the bed, dropping her down and hovering above her, “it’s going to start getting light out soon.”

“I know.”

“Probably no time for us to…” he paused, looking at her.

“No,” she smiled slowly, hands caressing the sides of his neck, “probably not.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I agree,” she cooed, pulling him down to a kiss.

He let his body drop on her, the weight and the surprise pushing a laugh out of her into their kiss. He pressed his mouth to hers again, hands running down her sides. She groaned slightly, her thighs squeezing him closer to her. He slid down, kissing her neck making her sigh. 

“Zeke,” she groaned, stroking his hair and making him turn his face to look at her.

“Please don’t say we should stop,” he frowned, leaning in to kiss her again.

“If you know I don’t have to,” she grinned, kissing him quickly.

He sighed, dropping his forehead against her bare chest, the peaks of her breasts just hidden under his unbuttoned shirt. He kissed her skin gently, “Amelia,” he groaned, he could feel the heat pouring from her body.

She hummed, rubbing his back then pulling her legs from around him, pressing her thighs together and closing him out. He let her, but he didn’t make it easy and she laughed, pushing at the weight of his body without much success, making him grin. 

He buried his face against her neck, “Come back tomorrow.”

She laughed, hugging him close, “No you need to sleep.”

“That’s not going to be an option anyway now,” he grumbled, “I’m just gonna be sore for you.”

“Sore?” she snickered.

“I don’t find it very funny, Amelia,” or so he said, despite laughing against her skin, “I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he pushed up hovering over her again. Her hazel eyes glinted, her face still flushed with arousal. He thought for a moment he should say it. Claim he loved her because he thought he did but he got nervous looking into her expectant face, worried she’d reject him. Afraid he’d press too far and that he would lose him these wonderful moments, even more than their circumstances were already making him, “I can barely get you off my mind.”

“Trust me,” she pushed him off of her finally, making him roll onto the bed beside her, a hand haphazardly trailing down her back, “I have you beat.”

“How is that?” he smiled, sitting up as she did, watching her pad over to the wardrobe. She glanced back at him when she slipped his shirt off, exposing the smooth skin of her back and making him swallow hard. She laid his shirt back on the chair and started to get dressed.

“Oh, I used to have dreams,” she sighed, not meeting his eyes, “dreams about you crawling into my bed, asking if I was ready to take you,” she glanced back at him, a slight smirk on her face.

He flushed slightly, “I did say that, didn’t I?”

She hummed, “You did. And I couldn’t forget it for the longest time.”

It made him proud, and weirdly happy, amid the lustful thoughts that it dragged into his head. He tortured her the way she did him. He couldn’t peg what about him was desirable to her, but it was nice to know it was there. He was glad to know that he distracted her and that he could satisfy her if her shaking body and loud cries were any indication.

She turned back, having put on her bra and stockings. She flushed a little under his gaze, her body drawing in in embarrassment, “don’t guess I can wear my slip.”

“Not if you don’t want to freeze,” he sighed, going to the bathroom and wringing it out as best he could. When he returned with the damp silk draped over his hand she’d pulled on her dress, practically see-through without the slip under it, which somehow made the vague hint of her body underneath even more appealing. He cleared his throat, glancing away. 

She turned and laughed slightly, pulling her coat on and buttoning it shut, “There. No one will know.”

He smiled, holding out the slip but when she took the other side he didn’t let go, instead giving it a tug and making her walk into him. He kissed her, then hummed a low note deep in his chest and let the slip go.

She playfully rolled her eyes, folding the slip up small and dropping it in the large pocket of her coat. Then he fingers raked through her hair, braiding it carefully without needing to look, “Not tomorrow.”

“The day after though,” he said, smiling as she worked on her hair.

“Yes,” she nodded. Dropping her freshly done braid. She gestured to herself, “everything looks normal?”

“No one would know,” he sighed, taking her hand in his. If he kissed her he’d just awaken all those feelings again. His better judgment would fail and he’d try to tempt her back into his bed. So instead he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckle, making her smile the same way it had when he’d first done it.

“Try and sleep,” she said, pulling back from him and going to the door, giving him a look when he snorted at the suggestion.

“Have a good day, Amelia,” he called.

She grinned at him, then turned and went out the door.

⚯⚯⚯

For a few days, things had gone peacefully, Amelia busied herself out of the house every night, either going to Hila’s house to plan with the network. Or going to Zeke’s room and more often than not ended up writhing under his touch. Every now and then she would go, thinking maybe they should just rest, sit and talk like they had months ago. She even thought he felt the same sometimes, given how tired he occasionally looked. But still, most of the time someone's hand would brush too high on the other's leg, their eyes would hang on the others for too long, or they would make the mistake of joking about their hard-to-control desires only to summon them out. An exposed nerve that demanded attention immediately. 

It felt a little silly, or even like she should be ashamed, to be so uncontrollably driven to his arms but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t hold his hand as they watched the children train, or kiss his cheek in greeting when she ran into him on the streets of Liberio. She wasn’t even supposed to stand within arms reach of him, much less wrap hers around him in a hug. He’d once been by the door when she was walking into the officer’s building and he’d moved swiftly to grab the handle, holding it open for her and breathing in deeply as she passed the closest to him she was ever allowed in public, even if he had to divert his eyes. It had been exhilarating, as ridiculous as that felt. Maybe that’s why she was driven to hold him in her arms in any private moment. She never could otherwise, and the rareness, the specialness of those touches made it easy for even the simplest gesture to snowball into a moment of passion.

Perhaps the pleasantness of those moments, and the restful sleep that followed them even if it was never for long, was why she was suddenly able to handle her nightly schedule much better. That or she’d simply gotten used to it over the past months. She’d been able to avoid Romer, though she hadn’t yet shared with her father what he’d done. She thought it would be best to save it, share it with him if Romer pressed her again and when her father wasn’t agitated with her still. Wilhelm had finally started speaking to her more at dinner, but he hadn’t called her to his office again yet, not that she minded. If anything it made her hope that he didn’t expect her to become pregnant instantly and that kept her from having to create another lie or risk losing Zeke.

She’d hoped to talk with Abelard again, thinking she could get some information from him and see why he’d left the drawing under her plate. He hadn’t done it since or made any mention that she noticed. But she’d been eating in the presence of her family since, and every time she was in the house her mother was hounding her about her birthday party. When she saw him in the hall he would nod at her politely, smile, ask if she needed anything, and then be on his way. 

Amelia was gazing out of the parlor window, letting her breakfast go cold. The crocuses had just bloomed in the garden, a sign that winter was rapidly coming to a close. As much as she preferred the warmer months, the winter did make it much easier to sneak around. In the summer she had to worry about running into people in the street much later. Even at the latest, she would go there would still be young couples on the streets, out for long walks, one of the few ways sweethearts could be alone in Marley without sneaking somewhere. Of course, many of these couples were trying to sneak into alleys or hidden areas of the parks and gardens to fool around so they were unlikely to share that they’d seen her even at the oddest hour. 

Silke sighed loudly, drawing Amelia’s eyes, “Honestly, girl. You were never such a cloud-headed thing before. You’re like a girl in love.”

Hilariously accurate, but given her mother was obviously obsessed with the idea that Romer was the object of her affection she frowned, “I’m not.”

Silke rolled her eyes, as though Amelia was just being resistant to having her secrets exposed and she was in fact hot on the trail of the truth, “Whatever you say, dear. Today I’d like for us to go dress shopping. I thought Mrs. Fernow could come too, she’s been a wonderful friend lately and you don’t have many good friends anyway, poor love.”

Amelia blinked slowly, processing the pressingly rude comment and the idea she’d want to go dress shopping with that withered handbag and her mother at the same time, “I can’t today,” she lied quickly, “I told father I would go to the base. What about tomorrow?”

“Go to the base tomorrow, Mrs. Fernow can only go dress shopping today.”

“That...is a shame because I had to go today, I already told Father I would and if I don’t you know how irritated he’ll be all dinner,” she sighed, putting her face in her hand.

Silke looked at her suspiciously for a moment then sighed, “Very well. I’ll take Mrs. Fernow for a nice meal today and you and I can go find you a dress tomorrow.”

“All right well,” Amelia slurped her egg down ignoring how Silke fussed then jumped up, “I should be off then!”

She rushed through the streets to the base, she hadn’t visited much at least not in the sunlight. She thought it might be harder to see Zeke when she’d gotten so used to holding him and speaking to him freely. Because of that distance when she approached the kids rushed to her.

“Miss Amelia,” the young blonde girl Leah said, spinning to show her braid.

“Very nice! What are you all doing today?” Amelia asked, crouching down to meet the girl's eyes.

“They’re shooting, Miss Suhr,” spoke a soldier, Romer’s friend who’d been guarding the door. He only held her gaze for a moment, a look of intense displeasure in his eyes. He probably had a poor opinion of her on his own, but with Romer inflating himself as a hero to her that she was coldly rejecting she was sure his opinion would only get worse.

“I see,” she nodded, “Shall I join you then?”

The kids all smiled, looking eagerly at each other and the guard who frowned but glanced past her up at her father’s office, “Fine. You need to be careful though.”

“Of course,” Amelia forced a smile, walking with the kids to the racks where the guns waited. Together they selected their weapons, the kids telling Amelia about how much better they’d gotten or what they were working on. 

“I do hope you’ve gotten better, Leon,” the soldier spoke coldly.

Leon froze. His hands shook on his gun, “I-I’ll try, sir. I promise.”

Leon had always been a frail boy, easily startled and overly gentle for the tasks that were asked of him. He was smart though and because of that. he’d always been a good shot. Amelia frowned, patting his head, “You’re worried about that day in the yard, hmm? When you had that busted up gun? Even the best soldier can’t utilize broken equipment. It’s not your fault that whoever is in charge of the guns completely failed to notice such severe damage.”

“Miss Suhr,” the soldier barked, “I’ll remind you the armory falls under the supervision of myself and other Marleyan soldiers.”

The children shuffled, mumbling to each other nervously. She knew she couldn’t push too hard. If she did he’d take his frustration out on them, but she figured one more dig would be justified, “Oh...I’m so sorry I figured such a menial job wouldn’t fall on Marleyan shoulders. I’ll keep that in mind.”

A look flashed through his eyes like he’d slap her if he could. Pure anger that, even if it was only for a moment, made him look more like an animal than a man. He huffed and turned, walking to the side of the field. 

“Miss Amelia,” Leon spoke quietly from her side, “please don’t get in trouble on my behalf. I’d be really upset if you did.”

“Don’t worry about me, Leon,” she smiled, pressing the stock of the gun into her shoulder and aiming.

“Yeah, Leon,” an older boy whispered, “focus, okay?”

Leon took a shuddering breath and lifted his gun.

“Shoot!” the man called, and they all did Amelia included. Shooting had been the only thing she enjoyed with her father as a child. She always said she liked coming to the base because he wanted her to, and it got her away from the house where her mother had hovered and stopped her from doing any of the rough things she wanted to do like climb trees or dig for treasure in the yard. The base wasn’t any fun though, as a child she didn’t have as much freedom and her father would wrench her arm badly when she tried to play with the Eldian children. 

Instead, she was always stuck being paraded by her father, doing tricks like a dog, showing off a poem she’d learned to recite, or the new words she’d learned in whatever language her governess was focused on trying to teach her then. When she asked about the guns one day her father’s eyes had lit up. Though other officers tried to deter him he taught her. Then set her in the yard and had her shoot. Back then, the force had been so overwhelming it had thrown her to the ground and made her cry from the shock. Wilhelm hadn’t given her long before he pulled her to her feet, told her if she knew what to expect it shouldn’t be scary any longer, and set her to shooting again. It was one of the rare occasions where he had been right, though it took a long time for her small shoulder to be able to bear the force of the kickback, in time she grew to enjoy the practice. The clarity of mind and awareness of space required to hit the target appealed to her and she enjoyed the shock of the soldiers as her skills grew.

She hit the bullseye, many of the children had as well, or had gotten close but Leon had barely hit the side of his target. Amelia pressed her lips together, what had they done to the poor boy after he cleaned all the guns to make him so traumatized? She couldn’t imagine how brutal it must have been to leave him as he was now; shaking with tears in his eyes.

“Leon,” the soldier called, “step forward.”

Amelia blinked, looking at the soldier stunned. The children around him diverted their eyes, clearly, this had happened before. Leon took a long shaky step, almost losing his balance. He wasn’t quite in the range of fire now, but it was dangerous to move from the line and toward the targets. She bit her lip, willing Leon to make the next shot, to end whatever brutality was coming. 

“Shoot,” the soldier called again and they did. 

Leon, missing badly once more crying out in grief when he did. 

“Step forward,” the soldier called.

“How is this meant to make him a better shot?” Amelia yelled across the training grounds. 

The soldier's eyes widened, he marched up and stood close to her, leaning into her face, “Miss Suhr, I don’t care if you're the child of a Commander, you aren’t a military official, you aren’t even a soldier, you don’t know anything about teaching these monsters. They only understand fear, so we’ll use that. But if you think he’s in danger let me help,” he turned sharply and loomed over Leon, “Now every time you miss we’re going to step forward together. Your groupmates will have to avoid shooting me now. Because if they do, they could be killed for it. This is the consequence of your failure, do you understand that?”

Leon sniffled sharply, “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” the soldier spat, “shoot!”

The kids did as they were told, the soldier unflinching as bullets zipped past him, Leon screaming in fear as he took another shot that missed. Then the soldier brought his hand down hard on the back of Leon’s head, making him yell and step forward. He gagged, spitting in the dirt, his body weak with terror. Beside her, the children were starting to cry but when the soldier called for them to shoot again they did.

The gun sat loose in Amelia’s arms as she stared in horror. Leon missed again, and the soldier hit him harder, throwing Leon into the dirt. His gun slid away from him and the soldier punched him in the mouth making Leon’s sobs sound thick and wet with the blood pouring from a lost tooth. The other children let their guns hang by the straps, standing aside and crying but trying not to turn away, doing what they could to avoid the same fate. The soldier kicked Leon, sending him skidding in the dirt and he stalked after him, falling on him in the middle of the yard.

Amelia looked at the gun in her hands and back at the soldier. She’d been holding it ready at her hip, her finger on the trigger. The barrel of the gun was already trained on the soldier, she didn’t have to move at all. All she had to do was squeeze.

⚯⚯⚯

“Heard,” Porco said, dropping into a chair, “that your record isn’t going to make it to market, Zeke, you doing okay?” 

Zeke rolled his eyes, “I think I’ll find a way to survive.”

“It was a pretty interesting idea,” Pieck chimed, turning her head up from where it laid in her arms at the table.

“I guess they would try something like that eventually though, right? Zeke’s the only Beast Titan that’s ever been able to do that, I’m sure the higher-ups are already thinking of what to do...at the end of your term,” Colt offered, a finger trailing the rim of his drink.

“Yeah, well,” Zeke sighed, leaning back in his chair, “we’ll probably never know but I guess whatever it is it dies with me.”

Porco smirked, taking a bite of the sandwich he’d brought over, “You know, you’ve been in a much better mood lately. What’s going on?”

“I didn’t know I was a typically bad-natured person before,” Zeke blinked, looking at Colt, “Do you all think I’m gloomy?”

“What? N-No. But you’re normally...uh...less…,” Colt struggled to find the words.

“I think he has a girlfriend he’s hiding from everyone,” Pieck said suddenly. Astute as ever, infuriatingly so, in fact.

“Me?” Zeke forced himself to laugh, “All I do is work and help train Colt. Besides, I have a long face,” he sighed, rubbing his chin, “and small eyes, I don’t think I’m going to catch anyone's attention.”

Porco snorted lightly at Zeke’s self-assessment, shaking his head, Zeke could always count on Porco to be the first to give up on trying to pry. He’d always seemed to understand arm's length was the absolute closest any of them would get and be fine with it.

“Well I don’t think that but, there’s someone for everyone supposedly, right? I think it would be nice if you had someone. I mean...everyone...deserves someone and especially you who’s always working and-” Colt was blabbering again, in that good-natured way of his.

Zeke twisted in his chair looking at him hard, “Are you flirting with me, Colt?”

“Wh-,” he blushed in shock, “No! I just think- I-”

“It sort of feels like you are,” Zeke smirked, leaning back in his chair, “I’m very flattered.”

Pieck and Proco snickered which worsened Colt blush, he waved his hand, “Whatever.”

They laughed, settling into their food and drink quietly. Zeke wondered what it was about him that was different. He was very careful to measure his speech, to act the same as always, and it had gotten easier now that he was able to rest better knowing Amelia would come to him every other day. He sipped his coffee thinking of her last night, bringing old records she’d found in her house claiming she was losing her mind listening to his limited selection. He scratched his ear to distract himself; to draw his mind away from thinking of the rest of their evening together. 

“You just seem,” Pieck spoke suddenly, seeming to know he was curious about why she’d shared her thoughts without him asking, “more settled or generally happier. And having a secret lover is all I could think of.”

He smiled at her teasingly, “I think you’re just thinking up a fantasy life for me, Pieck. It’s really much more simple than that.”

“Oh?”

“Mm,” he hummed as he sipped his drink, “I finally talked to medical like Commander Magath suggested and-”

Porco groaned, rolling his eyes, “I’m eating.”

“Well to be fair I wasn’t trying to share but with Pieck writing a romance novel for me and Colt making a pass-”

Colt’s laugh was high and loud, “I was not!”

They laughed together again all sighing slightly and shifting around as they came down from the moment. Zeke returned to his coffee, satisfied that the moment had passed. A single shot rang out which, in itself was a little strange. Zeke’s eyes met Porco’s over the table, then he glanced at Pieck and Colt but before any of them could speak they heard screaming. Soldiers barking orders and feet rushing past the door. Zeke stood quickly, going to the door which flung open just before he could grab the handle. 

A young boy stood there, tears on his face and eyes wide with fear, “A soldier was shot!” he announced, looking up to Zeke desperately for guidance.

“Shit…” Porco hissed, “they’re going to skin the kid alive…”

“It wasn’t…” the boy sniffed, looking between Porco and Zeke in a panic, “one of us, it was Miss Amelia.”


	11. Ripples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shooting's after-effects begin to pile up and as Amelia begins to use secrets she was holding, Zeke tries to refocus on his own goals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Note: some descriptions of injury and aggressive language

Zeke was running out of the door before the boy even finished saying her name. His mind was racing. Amelia was a talented shooter, too good to hit a soldier on accident. At the same time, he couldn’t believe she’d do it intentionally, it would put too much at risk; the children, her safety, and their relationship. As his feet echoed loudly off the walls his mind moved faster, thinking of what he could do to protect her if the worst happened. When he got out to the yard it was a storm of activity; soldiers were rushing out with a cot, passing orders, running to get the information to people it needed to go to. In the middle of the practice field was Amelia, the gun loosely hanging at her side. He stalled in the doorway staring at her, she was pale, gazing at the man screaming and bleeding in the dirt. 

“Come on,” Porco pushed him, rushing past, “we’ve gotta get the kids.”

He moved toward the kids at full tilt, no doubt he wanted to get them out of there before they got accused of making the shot. Zeke ran, trying to focus on the kids too, but when he reached her and saw how Amelia’s eyes were shaking, horrorstruck and near tears, he wanted to comfort her.

His presence seemed to snap her out of it and she turned her face to him, staring with her mouth open. He had to look away, else he wouldn’t have been able to resist his desire to ease her distress. He changed his gaze to the older boy that stood at Amelia’s side, “keep your gun with you and come with me. You all too. Porco, go get Commander Magath.” Porco turned and sprinted across the yard without another word. As much as the Marleyan soldiers needed to keep the man alive, Zeke and Porco needed to get the guns locked down. The count of the bullets might be the only thing to keep the children safe. Amelia must have known it too because even as another soldier tried to take the gun from her she gripped it tightly in her hands. 

Zeke started herding the kids away and glanced to the soldier, still groaning on the ground as medical tried to stop the bleeding. It was the soldier that had been guarding the door when Amelia had been stopped from getting inside. It made his blood run cold, he didn’t think she was so cruel or hot-tempered to shoot him for that, but a part of him, a paranoid voice deep in his mind clung to the thought and made him feel sick with worry.

Romer came rushing, pushing through the crowd and grabbing Amelia by her upper arms roughly, “Amelia, come with me right now,” he didn’t wait for her answer, just pulled her to the officer’s building, her feet dragging over the ground in weak resistance as she stumbled after him.

Zeke turned sharply, pushing the children toward the Eldian offices. Unable to look back knowing it would only be harder to abandon Amelia a second time. Knowing Romer was the one taking her away from the scene and most likely to the safety of her father. Inside the office the children shuffled to the table, sitting quietly and putting their guns down in front of them. They were breathing hard, turning to look at Zeke. He looked over them, his eyes freezing on Leon who was cover in fresh welts, “What happened?”

Leah spoke up, hand petting over Leon’s hair, trying to soothe him as he sobbed, “He was being really awful to Leon and he yelled at Miss Amelia! He-He screamed in her face. Then Leon missed again and he started beating him real awful. Miss Amelia didn’t even move her gun or pick it up. I didn’t even realize she was the one that fired until she dropped her gun and yelled.”

He swallowed. He knew then it wasn’t an accident. It was a truth he felt through his whole body. He thought of her protecting Reiner from a soldier years ago and how she’d been the one to step in on Leon’s behalf not long ago on that very field. He didn’t know how she’d done it, or really if she’d meant to kill the officer or not but he knew she’d shot him intentionally. She was unable to watch him hurt Leon any longer and she’d stopped it the only way she could. Zeke glanced out the window, the yard now completely empty of people. The soldier's blood already beginning to turn dark on the cold hard ground.

⚯⚯⚯

Romer’s fingers squeezed her arm so tightly it was making her veins ache from the pressure. She tugged against him, prying at his hand, “Let me go.”

He wheeled around suddenly, wrenching up on her arm and making her gasp with discomfort, he leaned his face close to hers, “You’re in no place to boss me around this time, Amelia,” he hissed.

She stared into his eyes, it almost looked as though he was happy. Like he was waiting for her to make a mistake so he could have some power over her, she scratched at his fingers again, “You’re hurting me.”

His eyes dropped to his hand on her arm. In a brief flash, he seemed stunned, shocked at how tightly he was holding her. How his fingers were turning dark red from the force of his grip. He let her go and grabbed her hand instead dragging her up the stairs to her father’s office and throwing the door open without even knocking. He pulled her in and turned to shut the door behind her, standing so close to her back she could almost feel the buttons of his jacket.

Someone must have told her father because his eyes were coldly unsurprised, appraising her and the gun she still had slung over her body, “Amelia. Put that down and come sit.”

She glanced back at Romer, and walked to a seat, holding the gun carefully between her knees the stock resting on the floor between her feet, afraid if she let it go someone would load the bullets to make it look like it couldn’t have been her. Her father sighed, agitated with her caution, “Tell me what happened.”

“I was shooting with the kids. That man started...punishing Leon by making him walk into the line of fire. He was walking behind him, saying he was in danger of getting shot if Leon didn’t perform better and allow them to step back. Leon kept missing so he started to beat him. I…” she paused, taking a shaky breath. She’d have to choose her next words carefully. If she made it too clear that she didn’t approve of the soldier’s actions her father would take offense and would refuse to hear her any further, “I haven’t seen a beating so...grotesque. I...it was too much and I put my gun down but I didn’t move my trigger finger and I guess…” she hung her head, “do you know how he is?”

He was quiet for a long time and when she looked back up her father looked at her with disgust. As much as she had always disliked him, even growing to hate him in the past years it hurt to see such a look on her parent’s face hurt. Pure disdain. Finally, he sniffed hard and sat back, “It hit his upper arm. Did a good bit of damage but it’s unlikely he’ll die.”

“...That’s good,” she said, hands balling into fists in her lap gathering fabric from her skirt.

“We can blame one of the kids, it would be an easy sell. Their friend was being punished and they didn’t like it. Devils stick together,” Romer offered. 

“We could,” Her father sighed, laying back in his chair and looking hard at Amelia. 

She glared out of the corner of her eye, knowing it wouldn’t serve her to look at Romer now. A cold-heat gathering at the base of her skull, pure rage. She felt her nose scrunch in disgust. She’d have to tell her father now what Romer had done, how his plans were butting into her father’s but first she’d have to find a way to get Romer out of the room.

“No,” Amelia spoke, “I’ll tell the truth and accept my punishment.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia. You said it was an accident but there’s no reason to let an accident ruin your life like this could,” Romer walked from the door, crouching at the arm of her chair. He took her hand into his, “It’s foolish to let this affect a life that actually matters.”

It took everything she had to keep from striking him, “A real devil would tell a lie like that, don’t you think?”

His eyes widened quickly in shock before narrowing back to a disappointed stare, he stood looking to her father, “Please, sir, make her see some reason here. She’s distressed. This can’t be her call, she’s not thinking straight.”

She could see the look on her father’s face, close to agreeing with Romer, she had to act now, “Father, I’ll tell the truth. Every truth if I have to.”

He flinched, his eyes boring into her own. He scowled, “Amelia.”

“Wh-What?” Romer looked between them.

“Get out, Second Lieutenant,” her father barked quickly, making Romer turn to him in shock.

“Sir, I’m just trying to help,” he swallowed, “I care very much for your daughter an-”

“If you care for Amelia you will listen to me get out of this office now and go check on that soldier,” his voice was like a growl, he slammed his hand on his desk, “out!”

Romer flinched staring at Amelia for a second longer before he left the room, slamming the door behind him. They sat in silence, waiting until they finally heard Romer’s boots echoing in the hall as he walked away.

“You best have a reason for making a comment like that in front of him, Amelia,” Wilhelm spat.

“I did it intentionally,” she raised her head and looked at her father.

“What?”

“I shot that soldier in the arm intentionally. He needed to be put out of commission...it felt like the only chance I would get,” Her head was beginning to hurt, the rush of adrenaline wearing off mixing with the pressure of having to craft a believable lie on the spot, “I didn’t want to burden you with it since you already have so much to deal with. I thought it would look too suspicious. I had the chance in the moment so I acted.”

Her father looked at her hard, leaning on his desk, it was clear he didn’t want to believe her but she also knew how dangerous his plan was for him. She’d used that threat before, and she would continue to. He couldn’t do anything to take that power from her now that he’d been stupid enough to give it. Finally, he took a deep breath, “What did he do?”

“He stopped me from going into the barracks.” Wilhelm stared at the corner of his desk, his eyes moving as his mind raced. He must have been thinking through his lies, trying to make out where he’d messed up. She let him wallow in it for a moment before speaking again, “He said Romer asked him to.”

“Romer?”

She nodded, “Then Romer came begging me to stop coming to the barracks. Telling me about all these rumors going around about me. Father, he said there’s a rumor my boyfriend is an Eldian soldier. Don’t you think that’s a little too close?”

Now it was his turn to panic. He went pale, sweat breaking out on his forehead, “That’s a baseless rumor.”

“Not really,” she sighed, “You do have me going to see an Eldian in the barracks, after all. The bigger problem isn’t the proximity to the truth, but Romer himself, don’t you think?”

He thought for a moment, eyes searching her face, then his eyes shut hard, wrinkles pressing into his skin, “He’s been trying so hard to win your favor and becoming so close with our family...the more seriously he takes the rumor-”

“The more true it seems,” she nodded, “I wouldn’t blame anyone for believing it if he’s blocking me from entering the barracks and begging me to consider him instead. As much as I dislike him, he does have a way of making himself seem earnest, doesn’t he? Clearly, he’s been telling his side of the story rather well if that soldier would disobey your orders to help him.”

Her father stood, pacing behind his desk, “So you shot him so he wouldn’t be able to guard the door any longer.”

She nodded, “Of course, Father.”

When his eyes shifted to her again it was clear he was doubtful. He wasn’t so stupid that she thought he would believe anything she said, especially not at this point but she had to try. She needed to ensure the children’s safety. If that meant she could get rid of that officer and Romer, all the better. “I cannot discharge Romer, he’s by all accounts a wonderful soldier in an army with incredibly few Marleyan soldiers. I’ve just promoted him, after all.”

“I know. I don’t think anything can be done about Romer right now. But later, I’m sure we can find somewhere for him to go. Something else to occupy his time. Given I’ve just severely wounded a man I doubt rumors of my love life will be the focus for a while, so I should be able to continue your...mission. But I also need your help with mother.”

He sighed, holding the back of his chair, “Yes, she’s made it clear to me she wants to accept any proposal she receives from Romer but with your work now-”

“He would find out.”

“Yes.”

Her father sighed again, rubbing his face, “You intend to protect those children at all costs then?”

“Yes,” she held her chin up proudly, “You allow anyone to frame any of them...and I’ll scream the truth of your plan for the whole world to hear.”

He looked at her, mouth pinched into a thin line, eyes quivering and she realized for the first time it wasn’t only anger that raced behind his eyes. Suddenly it struck her he was afraid but she couldn’t quite figure out if he was afraid for her or of her.

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia took her dinner in her bedroom that night. Her father had to intervene to keep Silke from barging into her room with prying questions and demands, insisting instead that she allow Amelia to sleep. She had heard them arguing on the stairs, Silke’s high voice cutting like piano wire. She couldn’t quite tell what her mother was so upset about. If she wanted to comfort her or judge her, but she was glad for her father’s pardon. She knew come tomorrow her mother would probably still expect her to go shopping for a dress. She’d probably still expect her to go with Romer, a thought that made her mouth dry with disgust.

Abelard let himself in the room quickly, “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Miss Amelia, it’s only to avoid anyone else peering in.”

She shook her head, “No that’s fine, thank you for bringing me dinner.”

“Of course, Miss,” He walked calmly to the table setting it out, “May I ask how you are?”

“...I’m all right, I suppose.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he smiled gently, not looking away from his work. He’d brought her a piece of cake, a treat she wasn’t aware they had, he must have noticed her looking because his smile became slightly teasing, “it’s a secret if you don’t mind.”

Her mind was already swimming from the day but it felt like the chance she’d been waiting for, she couldn’t let him go without trying to find out more, “You seem to have more of those than I expected.”

“As do you, Miss.”

It was the most direct he’d ever spoken to her, even in his polite address and tone and it made her gasp softly despite herself. He finished setting her plate and turned to her, brow creased with worry.

“I think it’s all right. For us to have secrets, Miss. But let me know. If you ever need anything,” he stood patiently, his back drawn up polite and strong, one arm holding the platter tightly to his side, just as he always did when he asked if she needed anything else.

“Actually,” she breathed, “Could you buy something for me? I’ve been wanting to get it for a while but I felt if I did I would draw too much attention since I don’t have the habit.”

“Something for a friend then?”

“Yes, could you…buy me a pack of cigarettes in the white box?”

He seemed surprised it was such a small item, but he nodded, “Yes, Miss. I’ll have them to you tomorrow. Discreetly, of course. Is there anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

He waited, looking as if he wanted to say something, then he nodded again, “Very well. If you ever do need something else procured, please do ask me. I will ensure it reaches your hands.” Then he nodded a final time and retreated out of the door. 

Amelia sat by her food, looking for a note but finding nothing other than the night’s dinner and a small chocolatey kindness from a man she still wasn’t sure she could trust but felt she should at least try.

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke sighed, looking out his window into the side yard. Amelia was supposed to come that night, not that he was surprised she’d forgone visiting him. After she’d left the day had been tumultuous, rumors crackling around the barracks like static. Whispers of her intent, of a child being the true culprit and Amelia nobly taking the fall, a wild suggestion that it had been someone else entirely. Even a small dangerous breath attributing it to a rekindling of Restorationists. It soured his stomach to hear such rumors about her so he’d turned in from dinner but now he felt hollow and gnawingly hungry.

He sighed, pulling on his coat. Deciding to smoke outside as everything in his room was burdened with memories of Amelia now. He shuffled down the stairs, nodding to the door guard as he exited the barracks and walked along the wall for a while before leaning and lighting his cigarette.

He’d never tell her but sometimes he wished he’d turned her away. Every night with her was a night he sacrificed from his mission. Every time he buried himself in her he risked breaking his own vow, betraying everything he believed in. When he was with her it felt like he was simultaneously his most base self, only driven by the pressing urge to continue life’s march at any cost, and a higher self. A form of him that understood more of life and his own purpose than he ever thought he would. For a long while, he’d tried to convince himself that the feelings he held for her were an illusion, a shroud placed over his better judgment by hormones and genetic instinct. That had been a dangerous oversimplification. If he were truly a slave to the monotony of life, he wouldn’t have waited to find Amelia. Instead, he had to face the truth. He had, at least in some small way, been wrong. 

He took a deep drag of his cigarette. Even if that were the case, he feared losing his way. Failing in his promise and thereby failing the world. While he didn’t think he could give up Amelia, at least not yet, he realized he may have to one day if he wanted to save the world from the threat of the Eldian empire, and free future generations of Eldians from the cursed life he led. Beyond his mission, beyond his own feelings, he felt guilty for putting Amelia in a zero-sum game. There was no scenario he could work out where he didn’t hurt her in the end and that thought burned deep within him as he finished his cigarette.

“Hello,” a voice called, leaning on the wall a polite distance from him.

He jumped slightly, looking at the tall soldier that leaned by him, their dark eyes set on him intensely. They were broad-shouldered and tall, with a delicate face and gleaming blonde hair cut short around their head, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s all right,” Zeke sighed, rubbing out his cigarette. “I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

“No,” they smiled lightly, pausing for a moment, “you’re right this is our first meeting.”

“I get the sense you know who I am though?” Zeke raised his eyebrow, something about the soldier's nature was startling. Perhaps, overly comfortable speaking to him as a Marleyan soldier, given their lack of armband. 

“Yes, of course, I think we all know who you are. Don’t you?” They tilted their head slightly, then looked out into the yard.

Zeke waited, then took a breath and blew air from his nose lightly, he wasn’t really in the mood for a game, “Would you tell me your name then?”

They turned back to him, dark eyes like water you can’t guess the depth of, “My name is Yelena.”

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia awoke early. She hoped to ease the burden of sneaking the cigarettes to her that she’d placed on Abelard but when she tried to put on her slippers she found the package, neatly tucked into her shoe. She smiled gently, turning them over in her hand. The familiar white bow with its silver shell, just like the crest of Marley. It truly wasn’t much, he could get them on his own. But for whatever reason, he hadn’t been able to before and she wanted to make at least a small gesture. She was sure yesterday's events had been equally taxing on him, if not strangely more given how little information he’d probably received of the soldier’s well being and the decision around the children. Moreover, she’d broken their comparatively long streak of visits for fear she would seem too cold-blooded if she immediately visited the barracks again. 

She wasn’t sure what the correct move would be in that case. She didn’t know if Zeke would prefer she wait another day, so she wasn’t a surprise, or if resting was the only goal and he would happily welcome her that night. It felt like all she could do was try. She felt she owed it to him to explain what happened from her perspective, fill in any information that had been barred from him. She worried, slightly, that he would be angry with her even when she explained, but she felt if they could overcome her initial lie then they could deal with this together too. As long as they could talk about it. That, she'd decided, was the most taxing part of their relationship, the long delay of communication.

She tucked the cigarettes away safely in her pillow, she’d have to come back for them after dinner instead of heading straight out the door. She stripped down in front of her bathroom mirror, carefully applying makeup to old marks Zeke had accidentally left on her, worried her mother might want to come in and help as she changed, or a dress’s cut might reveal a mark her normal clothes hid. She tapped the small splotches of foundation with powder, trying to ensure they would stay through what she could only assume would be a painfully long day. The small pale yellow marks left on her thighs from Zeke’s hands days ago making her wish the night would fall around her faster.

When she finally came down the stairs her mother was impatiently waiting at the table, “Amelia! What took you so long?”

“I had a hard time...figuring out what to wear. We haven’t been out shopping together in a long time,” she said smiling at her mother in a soft yellow dress she’d chosen as a weak act of defiance. 

Silke didn’t seem to notice, she smiled gently, “Well I’m glad you’re excited for it. Now eat. We have a lot to get done today. Spring isn’t long off now and with it your birthday.”

Amelia sat and ate, her mother was right. It would be spring soon and she wondered, as she took her time dipping her toast into the runny yolk of an egg, how she’d been so unaware of the rapid passage of time the past few months.


	12. Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia goes dress shopping with her mother and Silke takes the opportunity to air her concerns and Zeke and Amelia are finally able to see each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content note: toxic mother/daughter relationship, consensual explicit sexual content.

It felt like it had been hours of dresses but the clock on the far wall told her it had only been some forty-five minutes since they’d arrived. The attendant had poured her mother a glass of wine, despite the early morning hour, and then rushed off to pull the requested blue and purple dresses. 

Amelia sighed, shrugging the heavy shoulders of the dress up her arms and stepping out of the changing room. The attendant smiled widely, “Oh you look ravishing, dear. Beyond beautiful. Come, come let’s get you laced up and show your mother!”

Amelia gathered the loud shimmery fabric up so she could step onto the pedestal and looked over herself in the three large mirrors as the attendant pulled the laces tight. It was horrible; itchy, heavy, loud, and an iridescent fabric that shifted between blue and purple depending on how the light hit it. The sleeves were puffed at her shoulders and round like giant grapes and almost painfully tight down her arms. 

“Pull it a bit tighter,” Silke instructed, sipping her wine.

“Oh, yes ma’am,” the attendant said, pulling the strings suddenly making Amelia gasp slightly in surprise.

“That’s better,” her mother sighed as the attendant finished tying off the strings. She pulled the sash around and tied it into a large fluffy bow at her back. Amelia thought she looked like she was being swallowed, eaten alive by some terrible duvet. Her head looked small and the slight amount of skin that was exposed looked far paler than normal. 

“Well, turn and let me see, Amelia.”

Amelia twisted around, hefting the skirt and arranging it in front of her with the attendant’s help, “It’s incredibly heavy, mother.”

“Well with a skirt this grand in a fabric this beautiful it’s only natural there would be a downside,” the attendant chimed, “it’s a very new weaving process that allows us to make such a specialty fabric!”

“Well that aside,” Silke said, looking the dress over critically, “it’s no use if it makes it hard for her to dance and it doesn’t do much for your figure.”

Amelia frowned, tugging at the collar, “Then if you’ll untie me I’ll try on the next one.”

“Y-Yes, Miss,” the attendant said, deft hands quickly untying her laces. As soon as she was free she marched off to the changing room holding up the dress. She expected the attendant to follow her, help her out of one fabric prison and into the next, but she didn’t come. Far off she could hear her mother and the attendant talking. She dropped the dress around her feet and pulled the next one off the hanger, stepping into it awkwardly. As she shrugged it up her mother swung the door open, stepping in quickly and shutting it.

“Mother?” Amelia’s brows furrowed, “What is it?”

“I thought I would help you for a bit, Amelia, so we could spend more time together,” she stepped forward, pulling at the dress’s sleeves, “This shade doesn’t suit you, no use in putting it on.”

Amelia nodded lightly, letting the dress drop, she was glad she’d thought to put on makeup but her mother’s stare made her uncomfortable. Her eyes searching over her skin as though she was looking for something but she never lingered on the places Amelia had so carefully covered. Silke’s eyes became more frantic, searching over her intensely, but then she stopped and looked Amelia in the eye, pulling down a deep purple gown, “Try this one then.”

She took it in her hand, staring at her mom and the strange expression etched on her face, but when she said nothing Amelia turned back to the mirror. She stepped into the dress, waiting for her mother to say what was so clearly on her mind.

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke wasn’t made privy to what happened to the soldier. All he knew was the children were ultimately safe and the man had yet to return to work. He assumed he’d survived, wherever he was. Otherwise, one of the children would have been beaten, that he was sure of. Somehow, though only a day had passed, everything was relatively normal.

“Zeke!” Colt called, waving as he rushed up behind him.

“What’s got you all in a rush?” Zeke raised an eyebrow, worried that more bad news was being run to him.

“Wh-oh!” he grinned, “No nothing I just, I wanted to catch you. I feel like we haven’t had much time to practice, so I thought we could?”

Zeke blinked then scratched his ear, “I suppose it’s been a while. I was going to go on a little walk through.”

“Well, what if I came with you? We could play catch in the field, out past the hill,” Colt suggested eagerly, a smile breaking nervously on his face.

Zeke looked at him for a moment, taking in the eager expression on his surprisingly young-looking face, “Sounds an awful lot like a date. If you want to take me out try asking more directly.”

Colt sighed, rolling his eyes away, “I was really hoping that joke would die off sooner.”

“Sooner than a day?”

“Zeke.”

Zeke turned toward the gate, “Let’s go on our date if we’re going.”

Colt huffed loudly behind him but jogged to catch up, walking with his body turned toward Zeke’s, “Have you heard anything?”

“About?”

“Yesterday! Miss Amelia and the soldier and the kids,” Colt lowered his voice, watching people nearby closely.

“I haven’t heard anything, but that’s probably a good thing. We would have heard if something happened to that soldier, and Amelia,” he sighed, thinking of how she’d stood frozen with fear in the yard, “well I’m sure nothing much will happen to her she’s Marleyan after all, and with her dad’s position I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“That’s good,” Colt rubbed the back of his neck.

“All most sounds like you were more worried about her than the kids,” Zeke kept his head forward, looking at the soft grass just beginning to peek out of the earth. It was still incredibly chilly, but even the slight hint of the coming spring was comforting. 

“No, I mean…! I’m worried for all of them. I don’t think there’s an Eldian in the army that feels too sorry for that soldier if I’m being honest. But...I don’t know. Miss Amelia has always been nice. I’d hate for the kids to have to stop seeing her over an accident,” Colt was frowning now, staring forward. Zeke had never thought they were close, more often than not Amelia would gently tease Colt for seeming flustered or alarmed by her presence. He wondered if Colt had feelings for her and frowned slightly, realizing that despite how hard he’d tried to refocus himself yesterday and prepare to draw away from Amelia the suggestion that someone else earnestly liked her, even someone like Colt who could never be with her in any way more real than Zeke could, made him jealous. 

“I don’t think she’d stand for that,” Zeke lit a cigarette, trying to distract himself, “more than anything she loves those kids. I don’t think she’d stop even if she was told. It’ll just be a bigger problem for us if that’s what they decide to do.”

“You would miss her too, wouldn’t you?” 

Zeke jolted just slightly, his fingers twitching on the cigarette just hard enough to break it and make him curse, “Shit…,” he sighed, rubbing it out and lighting a new one to give him a second longer to think, “Why do you think that?”

“Well…” Colt’s eyes shifted, looking away from Zeke’s unable to hold his stare, “You just seem close. She smiles at you and speaks to you even though normally she focuses on the kids. And...well...you just called her by her first name. I’ve never heard you do that.”

He shut his eyes, taking a drag, it wasn’t like him to slip up. Yesterday must have thrown him for a worse loop than he had thought, “Thanks for catching that, I call her Miss Suhr normally, which is appropriate. I must have just lost myself for a moment since you called her Miss Amelia. You should probably switch to Miss Suhr, by the way. You aren’t a little kid, if someone hears you while they’re in a bad mood and you’ll probably catch a beating.”

He walked a little faster, letting smoke trail behind him as Colt sped up to keep pace, “O-Oh. Okay, I will, sorry, if I overstepped its jus-”

“It’s fine, Colt, I appreciate it. Let’s just play catch.”

⚯⚯⚯

Amelia didn’t have to wait long. As soon as she’d shimmied into the sixth dress of the morning Silke stepped in, taking the laces in her hand, “I have something I want to discuss with you, Amelia. Seriously. Mother to daughter.”

Amelia swallowed and met her mother’s eyes in the mirror. She couldn’t imagine what Silke had to say but her gloomy, half-angry expression told her it wasn’t a piece of pleasant motherly advice. Not that Amelia had ever cared much for those tidbits either. “What is it?”

Silke didn’t speak. Instead, she worked the laces down the back of the dress, her fingers moving quicker and quicker until Amelia realized it was her small, delicate way of expressing anger. 

“Mother?”

“I know,” Silke breathed, pulling the laces through their final holes and pulling them down hard, “I know you sneak out every night.”

Amelia’s stomach dropped. She had no idea how Silke had found out. She was always cautious to come and go quietly, excluding the time Zeke had been beaten and she’d run from the house, but that was long ago now. She had never been noticed by anyone but Abelard or her father when she came and went. She wondered if the kindly old butler was a plant, sent by her mother to see what she would ask for. Maybe she’d hoped to catch Amelia seeking out preventatives as proof of her running out. If that were the case why would he have actually gotten the cigarettes and delivered them to her then? If her mother had sent Abelard to her did she know about them? She could always try and play it off as a habit she’d picked up. It wasn’t an uncommon brand, Zeke certainly wasn’t picky in his selection and there was some safety in that but Silke knowing anything felt dangerous.

“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?”

Amelia met her mother’s gaze again as she tightened the strings as though she could squeeze the truth from her, “I just go to the library in the barracks, Mother.”

Silke stared at her then shut her eyes and shook her head, “I’m not a fool, Amelia.”

“Mother I-”

Silke yanked the chords making Amelia wince, “I know you’re going to see a boy. The rumors have made it outside of the barracks now.”

“I don’t think you pronounced his name correctly.”

Silke grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, making Amelia stumbled in surprise, legs getting tangled in the fabric, “Don’t mock him! Romer cares about you. You should hear how he speaks of you when you aren’t around. He loves you even though you don’t give him the time he deserves.”

Amelia slapped her mother’s arms off. She didn’t have anything to hold over Silke’s head, no secret plan to manipulate her with, but Silke was frail and weak-willed and Amelia was far too furious at the mention of Romer to hold back, “He doesn’t deserve my attention just because he wants it.”

“He loves you, Amelia. He’s working hard to prove himself worthy like your father did-”

“Father didn’t prove anything to you! He barely spoke to you, you told me yourself. You can’t just change that story to suit your narrative now, Mother!” Amelia felt herself yanking for the strings, suddenly desperate to get out of the dress. Her mother had probably hoped Amelia wouldn’t make a scene if they were out, that the dressing room would get them close, and the complicated gown was acting as shackles, tying her to the store as long as it wasn’t paid for and fastened to her body. 

“Then Romer is a step better!” Silke ignored Amelia’s fumbling, tying the sash around Amelia’s waist instead and fixing the collar, buttoning it tightly to Amelia’s throat.

“Stop it!” Amelia practically, shouted, pushing her mother back. “I want out of this dress, now.”

“Amelia.”

“I’ll yell for the attendant. Really. Help me out or I’ll call her over,” Amelia said, glaring at her mother.

“Turn.”

For a moment their fighting was broken up as Silke undid the dress. Amelia could feel her heart racing. She was shocked she hadn’t realized how deeply Romer had sunk his claws into her mother. She didn’t even understand how, given how much his own mother seemed to dislike her.

“I don’t understand you,” Silke said, her voice low, “you’ve always been your father’s girl, playing rough and studying. You only took to dancing for a short while, and music for even less. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing!” Amelia turned her head, looking at her mother over her shoulder as she pulled the laces loose.

“I must have. Because here you are, becoming a woman and already you spur a man that loves you despite his mother’s misgivings. Who defends you in public-”

“There’s nothing to defend me from! I’m not doing anything wrong,” when the dress fell loose Amelia spun around facing her mother, desperate to be understood. To pull her mother from Romer’s grasp, “Romer only wants to inherit your father’s money and my father’s influence. He doesn’t actually care about me! If he did he would have talked to me. We would have had a real conversation at least once-”

“He’s tried to talk to you he-”

“Springing a surprise tea party on me with my mother and his is not a real conversation! It's an appeasement to you!”

“That’s how it’s meant to be!” Silke screamed. Loud enough that Amelia stood straight, leaning away from her mother and staring in shock.

“M-Ma’am, is everything well?”

Before Silke could speak Amelia leaned around her and opened the door, “Would you mind taking these dresses? There’s not much room left in here.”

“Oh...yes sure,” the attendant said, gathering the discarded dresses as Amelia slipped from hers once more. When the attendant receded Amelia looked at Silke from the corner of her eyes. Her yelling had triggered something in her. A realization or a wave of anger she’d never honored before. For the rest of their shopping, she was furious and quiet, fingers going white as she gripped her wine glass. When they went home with a midnight blue dress Amelia despised, they didn’t speak and once they reached the doors of the house they silently parted ways.

⚯⚯⚯

Colt left the field earlier than Zeke, saying he had to hurry home for a late birthday celebration for his young brother. Falco had just turned four, one more year and he’d be inducted into the Warrior Program. With Colt, there had been no choice. He was already a young child when his uncle was caught up with the Restorationists and he was forced into the warriors as payment for his family’s crimes. But Falco was much younger, and Zeke couldn’t understand why their parents decided to have him, knowing what sort of life he would lead. It felt selfish and downright cruel. 

He lit another cigarette. He’d sworn he’d start smoking one a day. It was becoming expensive, and a noticeable habit. It just felt a little more excusable since he didn’t particularly care for his replacements. He wanted to burn through them quickly even if it wasn’t the cheapest solution to his problem. The sun was all but down now, a dull light showing Zeke the path ahead back to the barracks. Just as he crested the hill he saw a small crowd of yellow daffodils. He paused, looking at them, a lonely cluster on top of the hill, short blades of grass gathering around them. He thought of Amelia, shimmying back into a canary yellow dress, her hair shining red in the glow of his bedside lamp. Without thinking he bent down and plucked a few, taking them along with him to the barracks.

Dinner had already been called and he’d missed it so he was only able to grab a sandwich, probably better than having to listen to Proco tease him for bringing flowers along. By the time he reached his room night had just fallen. He wondered if she’d come. She hadn’t the night before. Unsurprisingly. He found a glass and filled it with water, dropping the daffodils in. They sat, awkwardly leaning against the glass, ill-suited to the container and he suddenly felt guilty for taking them from the hill.

His door opened quietly, Amelia peeking in for a moment before she stepped in and shut the door. She looked sheepish, hugging her coat tight around her, head angled down even though she held his gaze.

“You know,” he let his head fall back slightly, grinning ever so slightly, “you’re much crazier than I initially expected.”

A smile slowly spread over her face, “You expected a lot of sanity from a girl that climbs through library windows to see you, did you?”

He huffed, shaking his head at her and walking over. They met easily, arms wrapping around one another; Amelia pressing her face into his chest and breathing in deeply. He squeezed her, pressing his lips to the top of her head completely ignoring his earlier desire to forget the feelings he had for her. She pulled back, smiling up to him before slowly stepping away, her coat gliding from her body and she walked to the wardrobe. 

“So tell me,” Zeke sighed, rubbing his neck, “you did it intentionally, didn’t you?”

She studied his face for a moment before she answered, “Yes.”

“Did him guarding the door have anything to do with your decision?” He could feel his stomach tighten. There was no situation where her choice was good. It was still dangerous, for everyone, but if she’d do something like that over him alone he’d have to try and convince her not to or stop seeing her altogether. It wasn’t a risk he could take. No matter how much he cared for her.

“No,” she answered evenly, hanging up her coat then turning to him, “It occurred to me that it was him. Honestly, if anything, that gave me pause. I know how it looks but. I really...I thought he was going to kill Leon…,” he voice quivered, lip shaking slightly, she swallowed hard, “I’ve never seen someone so savage before. I’ve...never seen anything like that...I just...acted.”

Zeke nodded, walking to her and wrapping her in her arms once more. She relaxed, laying her head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“Just,” he pulled back, lifting her head to face him, “maybe shoot fewer people? I like seeing you without bars between us.”

She smiled at the suggestion, but then her nerves seemed to return, “You really aren’t mad at me?”

“I’m…” he sighed, stroking her cheek, “not happy it happened but I don’t think I can get too mad that you shot a man to protect a child. I at least think I’m not that evil.”

“Am I?” He stalled, looking at her and how her body seemed to fold in slightly, her eyes searching his face, “Even if he was the worst creature walking the earth. I still...I shot a man and lied...I endangered kids I-”

He pulled her in tighter, “You can’t do this to yourself. I had to learn that lesson the hard way a hundred times. You’re going to make choices you regret, do things without knowing if they’re wrong or right. I trust you when you say you wanted to protect Leon. If that’s the truth...then you can’t worry about that man. Or anything else. There’s nothing you can do about it now. Okay?”

She nodded, finally wrapping her arms back around him sighing as though a weight had been lifted from her, “It was awful not being able to see you last night.”

“Tell me about it,” he sighed, pulling away from her to shrug out of his coat, “I changed my sheets that morning and everything.”

She laughed, stepping from her shoes and flopping on his bed, watching him coyly as he dressed down for bed.

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke never failed to put on a show. He always seemed to know she would watch him as he unbuttoned his shirts or unlaced his boots. Only rarely would he acknowledge her. More often he would do things slower or more forcefully, sometimes doing things that seemed less efficient but certainly made his body more beautiful as it moved. She tried to look away but it was hard, his intentional avoidance of her eyes made it feel like a private show. He was inviting her to leer at him, the same way she did when she took too long pulling off her stockings or untying her bra.

She turned her head to break the spell he had over her and blinked at the flowers she hadn’t seen when she came into the room. Zeke must have been paying closer attention to her than she thought because he seemed to immediately notice that she was no longer watching him, “Like the change of decor?”

She grinned, “I didn’t know any had bloomed yet.”

“I saw them at the top of the hill, right by the barracks,” he crawled on the bed behind her, arms wrapping around her as he sat close behind, his thighs pressing around hers on the edge of the bed. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

“You like daffodils?” She smiled, putting her arms over his.

“Mmm can’t say I’ve thought about it before,” he kissed her neck, “they made me think of you.”

It stunned her quiet long enough he leaned his head to the side and gazed at her, “Do you not like them?”

She smiled and turned to kiss him, “I like them. It just surprised me.”

He glanced away his smile almost bashful as he leaned back in, mouth pressing to her neck. His arms unwound from her waist and slid up her chest, brushing over her breasts playfully. She pushed his arms away and stood, walking quickly to the wardrobe, ignoring the small groan of protest, “I got you something too.”

“I don’t think I said I was giving you my flowers?” 

She pouted back at him as he leaned back on the bed, a small grin on his face.

“I picked them after all.”

“Fine, maybe I’ll keep your gift.”

“That’s hardly fair,” he teased, “is it a gift if you demand one in return?”

“Zeke,” she whined, making him laugh.

“Come on. Show me my gift,” he held his hand out, grabbing at the air. 

She grinned back at him briefly before undressing. She was used to the tradition now; hanging her dress in his closet, laying her bra over the hanger, and pushing her stockings into the pockets of her dress. She looked at him, smiling softly as she pulled her underwear off from under her slip basking in how he seemed to lean forward in interest. Left only in her slip she finally felt the late-night chill of the air around her and quickly grabbed the cigarettes from her coat pocket and crawled into Zeke’s bed.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

“You’re so impatient,” swatting at him with her free hand, she sat up on her knees holding the box behind her, “hold your hand out.”

He turned his palm up, wiggling his fingers at her. She grinned and placed the pack in his hand. He blinked, turning it in his fingers as a smile slowly spread onto his face. He tapped them against his other hand, “That’s very sweet, Amelia. Really.”

It made her proud, she sat up a little higher, grinning at him.

Slowly he raised his eyebrows, a small smirk spreading on his face, “Did you get these as a bribe in case I was mad?”

Her face dropped, “No! Well...it wouldn’t have hurt. Okay. Maybe. But mostly I wanted to get something for you and I had the opportunity so...I did.”

He laughed, leaning back to his nightstand to get his matches, he put a cigarette in his mouth and lit a match, breathing deeply. He sighed happily, leaning his head back and blowing smoke, “Ahh…much better.”

She smiled, gazing at his cigarette, “what’s it like?”

“Hmm?”

“Cigarettes? I mean what’s smoking like.”

He blinked. Furrowing his brows at her, “What do you mean?”

“Let me try,” she said, a hand reaching out for the cigarette, “you do it so much I want to know what it’s like.”

He pulled the cigarette away from him, “Oh absolutely not. It’s not good for you. I just happen to not suffer the effects. I can’t, in good conscience, let you go down this path.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh come on just let me try it.”

“You can’t just try it, it’s addictive,” he laughed, continuing to dodge her reaches taking another drag in between their wrestling. 

“One time won’t make me an addict!”

“You cannot know that,” he laughed, grabbing her wrist and wrestling her away, “okay, okay. We can compromise.”

She settled, letting him hold her arm.

“I’ll take a drag...okay? And then I’ll...just blow it into your mouth,” he nodded but the quirk of his mouth made it seem like he knew something else he wasn’t sharing.

She raised an eyebrow doubtfully, but leaned forward staring at him, watching how he tensed and his eyes darkened, “I’m waiting.”

He took a drag, curling a finger at her, directing her closer to him. He took her face into his hand, his thumb gently tugging at her bottom lip down guiding her mouth open. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to her, and then let go of the breath he was holding. The smoke-filled her mouth and she tried to breathe in but it irritated her throat, making tears prick in her eyes. She leaned back from him, seeing his smirk and trying hard to hold back the cough developing in her throat. He raised an eyebrow, smirk broadening until she finally coughed. She tried her hardest to control it, embarrassed by his laughter. He took another drag, “See? It doesn’t taste good. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed when I kiss you.”

She blinked, “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about a taste when you kiss me…”

“Oh?”

“No, I’m normally too distracted,” she smiled, sitting up on her knees, “let me see.” She took his hand in hers, guiding the cigarette to her lips but leaving it resting between his fingers. She mimicked him, taking a drag but holding his gaze. She let his hand go and slowly breathed out the smoke, managing to keep from coughing, “It’s not so bad.”

He watched her, his eyes seeming to haze over as he suddenly moved forward, crushing his cigarette in his hand and quickly pressing her down onto the mattress as he tossed the cigarette away.

“Zeke!” she squealed, falling back and grabbing his shoulders, her eyes searching for the burn he must have gotten on his hands.

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, kissing her.

She laughed slightly, pushing him back weakly, “It’ll be fine later! You’re still hurt now!”

“Trust me I don’t feel it. I’m distracted,” he buried his face in his shoulder, groaning.

She sighed, her legs falling open allowing him to press against her. She stroked his hair, her other hand wandering over his back, “Don’t do that again.”

He pulled back sharply, pushing his forehead to hers, “Tell me it didn’t excite you at all and I won’t.”

She tried to stare at him. Trying to be strong, wanting to shame him for injuring his hand, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling because he was right as much as she wished he wasn’t. 

He smirked, kissing her deeply, “That’s what I thought.”

She rolled her eyes, taking the side of his face in her hand, moaning as his free hand glided along her body, gently tweaking her nipple in his fingers.

“You know,” he sighed, kissing her jaw, “I worry about your back sometimes.”

She laughed running her fingers through his soft platinum hair, “Why is that? Do I seem old?”

“No I just know how uncomfortable my bed is and with me, on top of you I can’t imagine it feels good to your poor back,” he was smirking, clearly proud of himself. Still peppering kisses along her chin and shoulder.

“It’s not so bad, maybe I don’t notice because...I’m distracted,” she teased, guiding her injured hand into her view, looking at the small circular burn on his palm. He snorted at her joke, smiling softly as she gently kissed his small burn, “You could always see for yourself.”

He narrowed his eyes for a moment, confused she thought, but then he suddenly realized what she meant and instantly fell beside her looking at her eagerly and making her laugh. He grinned, rubbing his thumb over her cheek as he held her face, “Well if it’ll help me understand you, how could I not? There’s certainly no other reason I would want this. None at all.”

She laughed, getting up on her knees, “You’re such a ham, honestly.” She guided his boxers off of him smirking at how aroused he was. He stared at her, hungrily and groaned through his teeth when she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip.

“Don’t tease me, Amelia,” he breathed, a hand reaching for her and ghosting over whatever part of her he could reach. She smiled at his touches, loving and desperate, longing to be connected to her. She sat up and swung a leg over him, holding his stare, hovering just above him. He growled, hands squeezing her thighs but not trying to push her down. She took her slip in her hands and slowly slid it off enjoying the pleased sighs she heard from beneath her and how his hands immediately reached to caress her freshly exposed skin. 

“Amelia,” he breathed, as she tossed her slip aside, eyes falling back on his face. She’d never seen him like this. Maybe she’d never noticed because normally he hovered above her, enjoying how she squirmed for his touch but now, as he waited for her, she got the satisfaction of knowing how badly he longed for her. She got to enjoy the control, making her wait for her caresses, making him impatient for the coming pleasure. She reached a hand between them guiding him into her and pressed herself down onto him. He moaned, gripping her hips tightly. 

She groaned, putting her hands on his chest to balance herself. She rolled her head back, sighing with pleasure, “What do you want, Zeke?”

He blinked up at her, then laughed slightly, “You want me to beg, huh?”

She smiled, leaning down to kiss him, “No, I don’t want you to beg. Just tell me what you want.”

He groaned, pulling her thighs and making her move against him, causing her to gasp, “I want you.”

She smiled, rocking her hips against him making him clench his teeth. His hands surf up her body, caressing her sides as he watched her intently. She ran her hands over her breast, head rolling back with pleasure as she pushed herself down on him more firmly, grinding her hips and making him groan. He panted sharply and she heard his feet kick against the bed behind her, trying to push himself into her even though she’d already taken all of him in. 

She tried to temper herself, resisting the urge to roll her hips over his as quickly as she could. Instead, she moved slowly, enjoying the sensation as she moved, moaning softly every time he sank all the way into her. She wondered if it was the position or the control that was making her feel almost drunk, lost in a haze of pleasure as she took him in, “You feel,” she panted caressing her own neck, letting her fingers glide down her body and then resting them on his waist and she slowly circled her hips on him making him moan beneath her, biting his fist to quiet himself, “you feel so good.”

Zeke’s eyes looked wild when she was finally able to look at him again, clearly driven to the brink by her slow movements and the pleasure they were clearly giving her. He pressed his hips up against her, panting and meeting her movements, making her drop forward and grip his shoulders, gasping his name in his ear which only served to make him wilder. He moved his hips quickly, the lewd sound of their skin colliding making her moan, pressing her face to his neck to quiet the sound. Her thighs began to tremble but she put her hands around the back of his neck, leaning back and making him sit up with her. He did immediately, wrapping his arms around, his open mouth immediately falling against her breast, teeth gently dragging on her nipple making her whimper with pleasure. 

She could feel his large hands cradling her as though she was sitting on his palms, guiding her movements, adding pressure and weight to every collision of their bodies. He was breathing hard, occasionally groaning in that deep growling way that made her feel so weak, she took his head in her hands guiding him up to her and kissing him. She pulled from him arching back with pleasure and he leaned forward, continuing to press messy kisses to her chest, his tongue occasionally trailing over her nipples making her quiver. 

“Amelia,” he panted, he looked like he wanted to say more but he couldn’t. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, face contorting in a way that told her he’d finish soon.

She sighed, pressing her forehead against his and looking into his eyes as she panted his name, letting him quicken their pace until she could only hold on to him and gasp, overcome by the pleasure that was racking through her body until he leaned back suddenly and yanked her forward so she straddled his stomach. A familiar heavy warmth spread over her back as he groaned beneath her hands desperately reaching for the sides of her neck, guiding her down to a messy kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him as he caught his breath. She smiled, but tapped his arm lightly, “Incidentally, keeping me bent like this is hurting my back.”

He laughed weakly, letting his arms drop as she sat up above him. She ran a finger over his mouth gently, smiling at him, “I’ve never seen you so…”

“Weak?” he laughed, his voice still soft as he tried to catch her breath, his skin turning a light shade of pink, flushed from their passion.

“I think that’s an unflattering way of putting it, overcome maybe,” she smiled, “you looked half-crazed.”

He snorted softly, rolling his eyes at how proud she was of herself, he sat up, carefully guiding her back so she sat on his thighs. He held her face in his hands, pulling her in to kiss him, “What can I say? Watching you like that, feeling you like that, I could barely think.”

She smiled, laying her forehead against his mouth and giggling when he puckered his lips against it. She loved him. She knew it completely, like she knew how to breathe. It was an unconscious part of her being, an essential part of her existence that she couldn’t explain even though it felt so natural. That truth had made being with him all the more pleasurable but she didn’t say it. She didn’t know how to express it with words when she felt she’d told him so much more clearly with her touch, so instead, she leaned in and kissed him again. When she looked into his soft grey eyes, how they glided over her face so gently, she thought he felt the same, and at that moment that was all she needed.


	13. Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As spring finally arrives so does Amelia's birthday but she'd not able to have a celebration that she wants, at least not until she sneaks into the barracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Note: some gaslighting and other mild toxic relationships.

“Amelia...Amelia…! Wake up!”

Amelia groaned, pulling her sheets over her head. Even though she’d stayed in the night before just for this occasion she wasn’t prepared for exactly how early her mother wanted to begin preparing for her birthday party that night. She opened her eyes, frowning at the dim blue light that filtered through her curtains, the bare beginning of morning rays that she so often walked home in.

“Amelia!” Silke called, rapidly knocking on the door.

“I’m up! I’ll be down in a moment,” Amelia sighed, sitting up but not yet willing to leave the warmth of her bed. 

“Don’t dawdle we have a lot to do!” Silke called out, sounding as though she was already heading back down the stairs.

Amelia sighed, listening to her mother’s shoes echoing off the empty walls of their home. It was going to be an unbearably long day. Her party wasn’t actually slated until dinner time, then they’d eat and dance. She’d managed to convince her mother to forgo the gift-giving portion of the party by promising to set a day aside to write thank you notes with her mother. It was still going to be unbearable. The guest list was full of her parents’ friends and people she’d attended school with before she’d been allowed to finish early at her father’s insistence. She’d barely spoken to any of them when they were in school, she certainly didn’t talk to them now. Moreover, her father had taken it upon himself to invite a plethora of young soldiers to try and mask the fact that Romer had already been invited by her mother. Amelia suspected he wanted to try and belay the rumors without actually speaking about them directly. 

She kicked the blankets away, finally turning to dangle her feet off the edge of her bed. Her eyes drifted to the nightstand and the badly withered daffodils that were still sitting in a vase. It hadn’t even been a week since Zeke handed them to her as she pulled on her coat, joking that she’d bullied him into giving up the only decoration he had in his room. Despite her best efforts to keep them fresh, they looked awful now but she still couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. On the nights she couldn’t see him she’d look at the flowers instead, thinking of how Zeke’s pale blond bangs curtained over his forehead as he fell asleep. She’d already decided she didn’t care how late the party went or how tired she was, she was going to go see him that night, a birthday gift to herself for bearing through the party.

When she finally dressed and trudged down the stairs her mother was tapping her foot and staring up at her, dressed in a fine tea dress with a matching hat, her hair tightly pinned into curls that peeked out from under her hat. Amelia stalled on the stairs, wondering if she was underdressed but her mother waved her hand, rushing her to come down, “Hurry up then, you’re having your hair and makeup done so you don’t need to worry about yourself. I assumed you’d figured as much out by how you look now,” Silke jabbed, marching to the dining room, “Your breakfast is cold so eat is fast. Your hair appointment is soon after all.”

Amelia could feel her heart sinking. Every moment of the day was making it feel worse, longer, more tiring. She couldn’t imagine how she would feel by the time the party actually began. So instead, she sat and swallowed her room temperature eggs and toast as slowly as she could without stoking Silke’s ire.

⚯⚯⚯

It always managed to stun Zeke, how quickly he sunk back into the normalcy of Amelia’s late-night visits. Despite all of the interruptions; her fear, the time it took to process the truth, and the shooting, every time they managed to regain their balance he fell into foolish ease. A comfortable complacency with the pattern of her visits. He’d even gotten used to the change in his sleeping pattern, probably helped by her growing comfort with him and how she often fell asleep in his arms or curled into his chest or by pressing her cheek between his shoulder bones. He slept better with her there, the even rhythm of her breath regulating his own, and, thankfully, she’d yet to adjust to the noise of the military base and always awoke at the first sound, able to rush off in the breaking light to her own bed as he got ready for the day.

He found himself missing her when she wasn’t with him. Though his bed was small, truly not made for two people, it felt vast and empty without her. When he woke with his arms stretched over the pale cotton of his sheets instead of her soft freckled skin and messy morning hair he wishes she came every night. But that was a foolish thought that he quickly dismissed. He trusted her more than he thought he probably should, loved her more than he ever suspected he was able to. That didn’t change that he had a mission, a promise that he needed to keep.

Likewise, that promise didn’t excuse him from jealousy. It didn’t banish the sour feeling that flooded his stomach when he walked into the yard and spotted Romer, circled up with other young Marleyan officers, gossiping like schoolboys.

“Yeah, right well, you’ve all been invited. You’ll be there of course, but who of you were invited by Mrs. Suhr herself?” Romer was looking around eagerly at the soldiers that laughed and shook their heads at his antics. He reminded Zeke of a cheap magician. 

“That’s what I thought,” Romer grinned, straightening up.

“Let me ask you something, Romer, because I’ve gotta make sure I have this right, okay?”

“Sure, go on then.”

“What was, ‘Mrs.’ you said right, as in Misstress. Not…‘Miss’ as in Misses,” the soldier was grinning wider and wider as Romer’s face dropped, “Are we sure you aren’t the Mistress Suhr’s little date then?”

The soldiers howled with laughter and even Zeke, who busied himself with a cigarette nearby in order to linger and listen in found himself barely able to suppress a grin. While the other soldiers were laughing, enjoying the joke in a friendly good-natured way, Romer fumed. 

“I would hope you all would have better sense than to talk about the Commander’s wife in such a way. You should be ashamed of yourselves,” Romer spat, “She’s merely a mother looking for her daughter’s best interest.”

The soldier that had spoken to him seemed tired, as though he’d heard one too many of Romer’s petulant, self-important outburst, “So that’s you then? You’re in the absolute best interest for Amelia?” 

The other soldiers tensed, glancing at each other aware that the lighthearted mood from before was gone and wasn’t returning. Zeke took a long drag of his cigarette, he’d never thought much about the Marley soldiers before, but he decided he liked this one who stood strong, looking down his hooked nose at Romer with a small smirk on his face. Romer pulled back like he was going to say something but then suddenly he turned, his eyes catching Zeke’s own. 

Zeke blinked, letting out a long sigh as he tried to glance away and continue to smoke but it was too late. “Yeager, got something to say there?” Romer called. Zeke assumed he pivoted because it was clear his fellow soldier wouldn’t bow out before Romer’s posturing, so he chose Zeke. An Eldian. An easy target. That weakness was Romer’s second most distinct feature, in Zeke’s opinion, after his wide amphibian mouth. 

“No, Second Lieutenant Fernow,” Zeke breathed, “only smoking. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Romer spat into the dirt, scowling at him. Zeke managed to keep himself meek, a slump to his shoulders and a downward cast of his eyes that were difficult to perform for the man that had been all but stalking Amelia. Since the night he’d barred her from the barracks he’d kept his distance. Zeke wasn’t sure if Amelia’s supposedly wayward bullet had disillusioned him about her, or if he was afraid of yet another venomous rejection.

“Why don’t you move on then?” Romer called, “We’re having a conversation, after all. Show some respect and give us space to have it properly without the reeking stench of smoke and Eldian hanging around.”

Zeke dropped his cigarette, leaving it burning in the dirt. A thin line of smoke drawing up into the air as he walked away, “Certainly.”

He didn’t bother to glance back, or to try and hear what the soldiers were talking of as they circled back up. Instead, his mind wondered what they’d been invited to. Not that it mattered, even at the scant military balls or formal events he and the other Warriors had been allowed to go to there was always a hard invisible line on the floor; separating the Eldians from the Marleyan nobility. That truth didn’t keep him from wondering why she hadn’t mentioned a party, especially one that sounded like such a big event. It turned his stomach, a sudden jarring reminder of how separate they had to live their lives. He wondered if she knew Romer was coming and if she would be okay with him hovering around her where she couldn’t turn him away as coldly as she always seemed to. He lit another cigarette as he walked, trying to calm his sudden nerves. Had she kept it a secret trying to spare his feelings or was there some other reason she hadn’t mentioned? Maybe she wasn’t even aware but somehow that seemed unlikely given the implied grandeur of the event. Worse than all those worries, he found himself more worried the party would keep her from coming to visit him. It always surprised him, those foolish clingy moments when he longed for her presence and time. It embarrassed him deep down, though he managed to keep the feeling from reflecting on his face as he walked the busy familiar streets to his grandparents’ home.

⚯⚯⚯

Her dress was tight and itchy. Her head was still sore from all the tugging and pining to coif her hair into a piled updo. Her face felt uncomfortably warm under all the makeup. The noise of the room was making her rapidly develop a headache and she wasn’t going to be able to pretend to still be eating much longer, no matter how small she cut her food. 

The girls sitting at her table around her were popular socialites, all friends with each other, happy to take the center table and chatter away together, leaving Amelia to sadly drag her meat back and forth through the sauce on her plate. It certainly wasn’t fun, but it was a small blessing from her father. He’d convinced her mother it would be more proper to group the young women and men apart from each other during the dinner portion, give them time to just be friends, as he’d put it. It saved her from Romer who’d already stared at her until she felt she had no choice but meet his eyes and politely nod at him. She was sure as soon as the music shifted he’d make a beeline for her, and she spent her last few tiny bites of dinner trying to think of how she might be able to side-step him.

“Amelia!” one of the girls said in a high childish voice as her now-empty plate was finally cleared, “I can’t believe you were able to finish all that food! It was so much!”

The other girls smiled at each other, one or two looking at the first girl with overblown shock, acting as though they were chiding her. Amelia smiled tightly, her eyes narrowing, “Do you think? It seemed quite a normal amount, compared to my normal dinner. Of course, I’m a very active person myself and I’m sure that has its effects. If I sat around gossiping all day I’d probably eat less too.”

The girl’s mouth hung open slightly before she forced a cold smile, “Even if I were you I think I’d be worried about getting too full to dance.”

“You’d have to be asked first before it would become a worry, I think.”

A silence fell on the table and Amelia tilted her head to the side slightly, furrowing her eyebrows in false concern, “It’s meant to be a party, you know, as my guest I’d prefer you have a good time but I can promise that’s not going to happen if you keep trying to pick at me.”

“Oh,” the girl tried to force a laugh, smiling at the others who looked increasingly uncomfortable, “you think I was talking about you? What? No of course not, I had no idea you were so sensitive Amelia.”

Amelia sighed, leaning back in her chair, “I’m not one to concern myself with the social expectations of a party and I’m not in a good mood as it is but there’s no reason for both of us to be upset so please,” the music began to swell and Amelia quickly pushed herself up from the table, “don’t push me to hurt your feelings.”

With her pride her the girl gawked at her friends, clearly intent on making a scene but Amelia twisted as quick as she could without drawing eyes to her and beelined for the bathroom. Once inside she took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the sweat beading at her forehead. 

She wasn’t sure how or when it had happened but she’d become afraid of Romer. It felt like he was always there when anything bad had happened to her. Anytime she’d done something dangerous or hurtful he was there. Anytime something terrible had happened to Zeke or she’d been kept from him Romer was somehow involved, even in an indirect way. She’d managed to largely avoid him since he’d accused her on the bench outside of the barracks. Beyond his involvement in the shooting, she’d barely seen him much less spoken with him. Still, she knew he was probably going to try and take advantage of the party and with her mother hovering nearby there wouldn’t be much she could do.

She patted a napkin to her forehead gently, taking a deep shaky breath as she stared into her reflection’s eyes. She could hear skirts rustling just outside the door, so she turned on the tap and pretended she was washing her hands as a small group of women bustled in. She recognized them, wives of men her father worked with. One caught her eye in the mirror, “Oh! Amelia dear, your mother is looking for you I think she wants you to kick off the dancing!”

Amelia forced a smile, “Thank you for letting me know,” she nodded, drying her hands and politely stepping past her back into the bustle of the ballroom. As soon as she stepped from the restroom hall and hand reached out, taking hold of her elbow and making her jump badly. 

She turned, eyes wide, and stared into Romer’s concerned face, “I didn’t mean to frighten you, Amelia, just wanted to get you before you got lost in the crowd.”

She swallowed, pulled her arm from him. He’d worn his dress uniform again like he had when he’d come for tea weeks ago. The only difference was now it had a different bar of colors, corresponding to his new rank. Well, that and he’d clearly spent hours polishing every possible surface. She could see her face at different angles in his buttons, though the embossed Marley crest distorted her features. His hair was styled and so firmly set it barely looked real. He seemed strangely hopeful for a moment as she studied him, but when her expression failed to relax his fell as well.

“So you’re still upset with me?”

“Yes.”

“Amelia-”

“I have to find my mother, she wants me to start the dance.”

“I know, she told me.”

Amelia stalled, turning back to look at him, “Oh please-”

“She only told me cause she knew I’d want to ask you…” he sighed, annoyed with her resistance, with her obvious judgment of his methods, “I just wanted a chance to ask you before everyone was looking. It would make your mother happy and she did all this for you. Come on. And...if you’d like to tell me while you’re still so upset with me while we dance I can start to explain to you.”

“I don’t need you to explain anything. I understand. That’s why I’m so upset,” Amelia spat, stepping in toward him and lowering her voice to keep the nosey socialites from overhearing.

“Well, then I don’t. I don’t understand. I don’t know what you think I meant, you must have misunderstood-”

Amelia grit her teeth so hard she could hear the enamel creak in her mouth but before she could speak her mother bustled into the conversation, “Oh lovely you’re both here.”

“Mother I don’t wan-”

Silke turned her eyes on Amelia, suddenly so dark and sharp it startled her to silence, “I’m not asking who you want to dance with, Amelia. I’ve given you enough space and time to get over whatever silly girlish hurt you’ve imagined. Stop torturing the poor man. You’ll dance with him because it’s what I want and I did all of this work on your birthday just for you.”

The music swelled suddenly and Romer took Amelia’s shock as an opportunity to take hold of her arm again, “I think that’s our cue then, Amelia.”

He led her out to the dance floor, smiling widely as they walked but Amelia could barely force herself to look neutral, much less to look happy to be there. In the first few passes of the dance she couldn’t even really hear the music, she was just following Romer’s steady steps, staring at herself in his shiny top button. He was speaking, she could see his lips moving in her periphery, but all she could hear was a dull buzz. A whooshing sound, like an ocean wave roaring over her head. 

Suddenly Romer turned her in a spin, and it seemed to knock her back to her senses, her shoe catching on her dress, making her stumble slightly against him. He caught her easily, adjusting the steps so it was almost imperceivable, “I thought you might be a bit better of a dancer than this.”

“I’m distracted.”

“By what?”

“By how much I don’t want to be here.”

To her surprise, Romer laughed, “I don’t like dances either, Amelia. I just wanted to see you.”

She cut her eyes to the crowd where her mother clung to Wilhelm’s arm. Smiling so proudly she could almost see tears welling in the woman’s eyes, “You’re a surprisingly capable dancer then if you really don’t like them.”

“Well,” Romer smiled, leaning toward her ear as he continued the dance, “I’ve found that sometimes if I want to succeed in life I have to do things I don’t necessarily like.”

He drew back and looked at her, his eyes heavily lidded in a way she supposed he intended to be seductive. She took a deep breath as the song ended, politely pulling from him and nodding, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take that advice.” As a new song picked up she weaved through the crowd, abandoning Romer on the quickly crowding ballroom floor.

⚯⚯⚯

Zeke should have gone to sleep hours ago. If her family was throwing a party, more than likely Amelia wouldn’t be able to break away to see him. Even if she could visit, he could have slept and trusted her to wake him as she crawled into his bed just as she’d done many times before. Despite knowing all this he’d stayed awake, always thinking of something else he could do to fill the time. To press further and further into the night in case she could come. 

He pulled back his covers and sat on the edge of his bed scratching at his ear. Now he really was just foolishly stalling in case she could come. Just as he was about to chide himself, the familiar noise of his lock turning echoed from the door and he looked up. Amelia wore her fine woolen coat like always as the warm spring days still gave way to cold winter-like nights, but her hair was in a regal pile of curls on her head and her face was covered in beautiful but excessive makeup, at least compared to her normal look. 

He sputtered, quickly covering his mouth as he tried to suppress his laugh. She rolled her eyes and locked the door behind her, setting about taking off her shoes and coat, “Go ahead and laugh. That’s really lovely, Zeke.”

He smiled, holding his arms out to her from the bed, “Come here. I wasn’t laughing at you.”

She frowned at him, stepping in front of him but staying just out of his reach. When he strained and brushed his fingertips against the fabric of her dress she stepped back, holding a box he hadn’t noticed when she walked in closer to her, “What then? Did you think of a funny joke?”

“No,” he smiled slowly, “I guess I was laughing at you then, but only because you look very unhappy.”

“I am.”

He frowned, pushing himself from the bed just briefly enough that he could reach her before dropping back and pulling her along to stand between his knees in front of him, “What happened?”

She sighed, placing the mysterious box on his bedside table, “Just an awful party, with awful people, and this awful hairdo.”

He grinned, holding her hips and rubbing his thumbs over her hips, “It doesn’t suit you very well. I think it hides how beautiful your hair is. You don’t need such a fancy hairstyle.”

She pouted at him, reaching into her hair and pulling out a pin, “It’s mainly very painful.”

He hummed and patted his lap, “Sit, I’ll help you.”

She smiled slowly before turning and sitting between his thighs. Her hands rested playfully on his legs as he began searching for pins. He blinked at the mess, “Who did your hair, a blacksmith?”

She snorted, “What do you mean?”

“Why is there so much metal in here?” He groaned, “If I had known it was going to be this much work I wouldn’t have offered to help.”

She laughed, loudly enough that she covered her mouth. It made him smile, he didn’t need to see her face to know it melted some of her tension away; her shoulders had dropped slightly and she held her head less rigidly. He paused in his work and leaned down, quickly kissing her shoulder before continuing with her hair.

“What’s in the box?”

“A surprise.”

“Another one?” he teased, “I feel so honored, two surprises in a week. I could get used to this.”

“Oh, then I’ll have to stop.”

He chuckled, dropping a handful of pins on the side table and reaching for the box, she grabbed his hand, guiding it back to her hair, “Finish helping me first.”

“I think for it to be helping you also have to be pulling pins out.”

She sighed, “Fine,” but lifted her hands to her hair, pulling pins from the front as he worked his way up from the back.

They sat in silence, the only noise came from the quiet clicking of the pins and Amelia’s occasional gasps of discomfort as hair was pulled or sighs of relief as her now very curled locks fell free.

“We could make an entire rifle out of this. It’s practically unpatriotic.”

She laughed again, this time turning to look at him over her shoulder, “So many jokes tonight.”

“It’s a defense mechanism when you seem upset,” he grinned, “Is it working?”

“Surprisingly well.”

He smiled as she leaned in pressing her lips to his. He expected her to pull away, for them to continue pulling pins out of her hair, but instead, she twisted around dropping her arms around his neck and kissing him more firmly.

It felt strange like she needed something. Like the kiss wasn’t because she loved him but rather because she was searching for a way to distract herself or heal some hurt he didn’t know about. It made him worry so he pulled back gently, holding her face, “I’d prefer not to be covered in makeup, want to wash it off?”

She looked at him quizzically for a moment but nodded, and he quietly maneuvered around her and stood, walking to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what could best remove makeup, other than water and a towel, but he grabbed his shaving soap and brush. When he returned Amelia and tangling her fingers in her hair, searching for any remaining pins, and shaking the funny-shaped curls around. 

She raised an eyebrow, “Is this how I find out I have facial hair you want me to get rid of?”

“No, I just don’t know very much about makeup so I brought what I had.”

“...This is all you have for your face?”

“All I have to do is shave. What else would I need?”

She blinked at him before smiling and shaking her head, “Men.”

He swirled the shaving brush on the soap quickly and swiped the lather over her forehead grinning at the shocked look on her face. 

“Well I suppose it won’t hurt to try,” she sighed, turning her face up to him. He gently brushed the white foam over her face, occasionally flourishing the brush to make her laugh. When he was finished he handed her a damp towel. She squinted at him, “the moment of truth.”

She rubbed her face surprisingly vigorously and when she pulled the towel back it revealed a smear of colors on the once white cloth. She looked at it and then up to him. Though some makeup clung to her face she was back to her normal self for the most part. Their shock registered at the same time and they laughed together as Amelia finished wiping off the makeup and shaving cream. 

She sighed when she was done, happily dropping back onto his bed, “I feel much better now.”

Zeke smiled, returned the shaving tools to the bathroom counter, “that’s good, now you should have all the energy you need to tell me what’s in the box.”

When he returned she’d sat up and pulled the box into her lap, fingers clutching the sides of the lid, “Hurry up and I’ll show you.”

He smiled and sat beside her. She lifted the lid and let it slip down to the floor by her feet. Inside the box was a very large slice of fluffy yellow cake covered in soft white icing and delicately piped flowers. She smiled at him. As he opened his mouth to speak she smirked, pulling two forks from the pocket of her dress.

He huffed, “Okay you foresaw one question I had,” he grinned, “my other question is what...was this party you had for?”

She blinked at him, holding out a fork, “You heard there was a party?”

“Mm,” Zeke hummed, “From Romer’s bragging nonetheless.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he sighed, quietly plunging his fork into the cake, “I’m sorry you had to deal with him at a party. Why didn’t you mention it to me though?”

She sighed, turning her fork in the cake and taking a surprisingly heavy frosting to cake ratio onto her fork that made Zeke smile to himself, “I just didn’t want to stress you out about it. I knew you wouldn’t be able to come and...anyway my mother made it a really unpleasant experience so I guess I just didn’t want to talk about it when I was with you.”

“The cake’s very good though,” Zeke added, “so the whole party wasn’t a loss. But you didn't say what it was it for.”

She blinked. Smiling slowly at him as he took another bite, his eyebrow raising at her pause, “It’s my birthday.”

He choked, barely able to cover his mouth in time to keep from spitting cake all over the floor in front of him. His stomach dropped, twisting in a knot horribly. He hadn’t known. He’d never even thought to ask when it was. He certainly didn’t have anything to give her. He only felt worse when he saw how her eyes glimmered with amusement. He uncomfortably cleared his throat, the cake suddenly feeling very dry to him. She smiled and places the box in his lap, going to the bathroom and returning with a glass of water that he drank while looking into her eyes. The longer he went without talking the more amused she looked and the more he wanted to put off whatever floundering excuse he'd have to work up so he finished the whole glass before he finally spoke, “You didn’t tell me…”

“You didn’t look it up either,” she smiled slightly, answering with such speed Zeke knew she must have expected his statement, “I mean just to be fair. Not that I expected you to. You know...care about my birthday.”

“Amelia,” he frowned, putting the cake on the bed beside him and standing.

“Oh no don’t,” she smiled, “I’m teasing you, really. It’s okay. I don’t really care about it. If I did I would have told you.”

He frowned, reaching out and holding her face in his hand, “But what if I care about your birthday, hm?”

Suddenly the teasing smile dropped from her face, and he couldn’t help but grin at how fast their teasing seemed to switch back and forth, “Did you really think I wouldn’t care about celebrating the day you were born?”

“Well...I…” she flushed a light shade of pink.

“This is practically a state holiday for me. A holy day on my calendar and you didn’t bother to tell me-”

“Oh come on a hol-”

“Don’t interrupt my teasing, I didn’t interrupt yours,” he chided, leading his forehead onto hers.

“Right. Sorry. Please,” she smiled, sliding her arms around his hips, “continue then.”

“Was this a dance party?”

“My birthday…?” She blinked, “It was...why?”

He glanced at his record player and then back to her, his smirk spreading wider.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“Amelia I would be honored,” Zeke mused, sliding his hand into hers and guiding her to his records, “Would the lady like to choose for her birthday?”

Amelia smiled at him and then turned to the stacks of record, playfully pulling the Marley national record out and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Would the lady also like to not make a joke out of my romantic gesture?”

She laughed, the last of her earlier tension finally seeming to leave her as she pressed against him and pulled him to a kiss. Then she turned back to the records and picked the Opera, the one he’d put on before when she’d finally returned to him after the truth came out. Her mouth tugged into a smile, the cute sharp corners he’d hoped for back then. It made his chest feel heavy, flooded with desperation to hold her. He leaned in, dropping an arm around her shoulders and pressing his lips to her temple.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of opera?”

“I’m not,” he smiled teasingly, “but I have a hard time resisting a good moment of thematic irony.”

She bumped her shoulder against his chest but put the record on silently. As the music swelled around them, she turned, looking at him expectantly, her hazel eyes almost glimmering in the dim light of his room, the makeup still clinging to them making them appear even more dramatic. He smiled, leaning down and kissing her, noting how she tasted of the cake and still smelled faintly of his shaving cream. He pulled away and held her hand in his own, pulling her in close and lazily following the steps. She glided along with him, her head pressed against his chest, no doubt hearing the effect she had on his heartbeat. He smiled, resting his face in her hair, enjoying how simple the dance was and how appropriate it felt for them. They danced like that until she got tired, stepping in and resting more and more heavily on him until he was left hugging her just to keep her on her feet. He smiled and easily lifted her into his arms, gently laying her in his bed and curling around her to fall asleep, the half-eaten cake the hairpins abandoned on the bedside table, and the final notes of the opera’s score guiding him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I just wanted to thank everyone for their patience between chapters. I tend to publish things as I finish them, not on a schedule. So all of the previous chapters were just written very close together. As such when work and life got very busy I wasn't able to post. I'm through most of that now and took a little bit to rest as well. I hope to continue posting regularly now! Thank you again for waiting and I hope you'll stick with me to the end!


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